Becoming a Lannister
by xxxIIIxxx
Summary: Sansa reaches her sixteenth name day and seals away her inner child to become the woman who will not only survive, but actually live in this new world around her. And the first thing she does is finalize her marriage with Tyrion to become the Lannister that is expected of her. "But only by name," she whispers.
1. Chapter 1

Becoming a Lannister

Sansa reaches her sixteenth name day and seals away her inner child to become the woman who will not only survive, but actually live in this new world around her. And the first thing she does is finalize her marriage with Tyrion to become the Lannister that is expected of her. "But only by name," she whispers.

Notes:

I have not read the books. Only seen the series, and Game of Thrones the TV series seems to make quite a few time jumps that are subtle, (understandably so since the child actors are growing up quite quickly) which is why I took the liberty to have about a year and a half pass since Tyrion and Sansa's Wedding. Which would make her roughly/newly sixteen. (Still young, but I think that's about as far as I can push it because in my head this would take place some months after the death of Catelyn and Robb, but about 2 months before the Royal Wedding.)

Also I had no beta so sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes etc.

* * *

An entire year and a half had passed since Sansa's wedding to Lord Tyrion. She stood on her balcony overlooking the sea and she had come to accept that her life would forever be lived by the side of a Lannister confined within these Kingdoms walls. Everytime she wished and hoped for more, any moment she was told good news, everything would fall through and before she knew it, she would be worse off than before. She once had hoped for a marriage with Joffrey, and he turned out to be the most foul man she'd ever met. Her eyes brightened at the thought of being whisked away to safety with Petyr Baelish, but no. She became too hopeful and held out hope that maybe she could end her misery another way. Loras Tyrell was a fine match, but once more she was made to look a fool as she was forced to marry Tyrion.

And so with the death of her mother and eldest brother almost a year ago, she sealed her hopes away. On her sixteenth name day just a few days ago, she swore to shed every essence of her former self. She promised herself to never fantasize and dream like the child she once was. But rather than become a bitter and hateful woman like Cersei, she simply changed they way she viewed her situation.

Tyrion still came from one of the most respectable families in the seven kingdoms. And to a degree, luck was on her side as she was married to a man who was genuinely kind to her. One who promised to never hurt her, and he never did. A man who even refused to bed her without her consent. But for how long could she really keep up the act? People already began to talk. Some believed she was barren, cursed, due to being unfavored by the gods as her entire family were traitors.

At some point she had to bear his children.

"Blonde Lannisters they would be..." the words spilled from her mouth like venom. She wasn't sure how strong the Lannister gene was, but if Joffrey was any indication of that gene, she would surely give birth to more fair haired children. And suddenly she began to find herself resenting even more Lannisters who didn't even exist.

But then again, even if they were fair haired, maybe they would resemble her father. Maybe one would remind her of Rickon.

Or maybe she'd be lucky enough to be blessed with a red haired Tully. One who reminded her of her mother. One who would resemble herself, and be hers alone.

"Or they'd be a dwarf..." Sansa breathed bitterly and walked toward her bed. Sansa hadn't merely come to her bed chambers to let her mind wander. She came up their with a purpose.

She looked at how pristine the bedding was and she slowly began to peel off the many layers of her dressing, until she was left in only her sheer underdress.

Her door then opened and she knew it was Tyrion. He was the only one who would come in without a knock. She turned around to look at him, not bothering to cover herself as they had gone many nights seeing eachother in undergarments. It eventually didn't bother Sansa.

"Sansa, forgive me," Tyrion turned and Sansa was surprised at his modesty. Perhaps it was because the sun was still high and the light that flooded the room made her pale body visible through her gauzy dressing. Sansa looked at the window assuming it was high noon. She had duties and responsibilities and so did Tyrion for the day.

"It's fine my Lord. I was just going to rest. The past few days have been...exhausting," she sat down on the bed and then asked, "why have you come during midday?" It came off a tad rude, but Tyrion didn't mind. He began to walk towards their table where a flask of wine and two goblets sat.

"Sometimes when the morning gives me more troubles than I'd like I retire to our chambers for an hour or so, and drink." He filled his cup to the brim and quickly drank the whole fill.

"You can turn around," Sansa said finally.

Tyrion set his empty goblet down and paused for a second wondering if he actually heard her correctly. He then refilled his goblet halfway and turned. His pale eyes took in the sight of her. She had certainly grown since the first time he met her in Winterfell. What a child she had been then, and what a woman she had grown to be now. Tyrion could feel his blood rush to his cock and it became half hard. Gods, how long was it since he'd had a proper fuck?

When he first had married Sansa, he frequently had Shae almost every other day. But as the days went by, he swore that more eyes were following him, so he began to deny her and tell her not to visit as frequently. And she would always put up an argument.

He also did so because Sansa had surely grown on him. He'd be a liar if he ever said he didn't want Sansa. He lusted for all kinds of women, and Sansa was surely no exception to this. Though still a little young for his taste, she had well developed breasts and he was sure she had quite a lovely pussy between those long legs. He brought his cup to his lips once more and drank the wine fully. As he reached for the flask to refill he asked Sansa, "Tell me Sansa, do you wish for me to leave or would you rather me gaze upon you with desire?" He began drinking his third glass of wine but this time he was in no hurry.

"I was thinking that maybe I should stop acting like a child and be your wife," she spat. It was more bitter than she intended but she couldn't help but resent Tyrion to some degree. In truth he hadn't actually wronged her, but his entire family had. She then closed her eyes and gave a heavy sigh. "Forgive me my Lord. We approached our first milestone within our marriage almost six months ago. We're less than six months away from our second," it almost started to sound like she was rambling but Tyrion listened to her. "And...people are beginning to...whisper disgusting rumors about me...well, us. And I was simply thinking that maybe we should...seal our marriage."

Tyrion wasn't sure how to react. "You mean consummate?" He knew what she meant but the fact that she was coming around to it caught him off gaurd. "Are you sure?"

Sansa gave the slightest of nods, then began to pull off her sheer dressing.

"Sansa," Tyrion spoke her name with such a firm voice it made her jump. He brought his hand up as if in a gesture to halt her actions, "You don't have to do this. Especially when you don't want it. In fact, " he breathed and wondered if the wine was getting to him, "I've said this before on our wedding night, and I'll say it again. You never have to."

Sansa once more felt that same weight lifted from her. She wasn't free, but the fact that she was again reassured that she had the ability to choose if she let Tyrion have her body or not was comforting to her. It was something that she could control about herself. Something she would always be able to control. But even so, she was still married to him, and while they could certainly live their lives without intimacy it would be tricky. He would no doubt break his vows, and begin visiting the brothels and fucking whores, that was if he hadn't already. He'd sully his family name further and their marriage would be more of a joke than it was already. And who was to say she would want to stay a virgin the rest of her life? She would probably find someone eventually. Have quiet affairs but at the end of the day they'd come back to the same rotten bed and pretend that was all normal.

"No," Sansa shook her head, "I will not be in marriage so obscure as that. I may not have choosen you Tyrion and you may have not choosen me, but I will be damned if I'm going to live in sorrow. I will not let your family rip joy away from me for the rest of my life. I am your wife, and you're my husband, and while I deeply respect your tenderness and care, I wish to, " Sansa swallowed, " I wish to lie with my husband," Sansa held herself gracefully, and a moment of silence passed as Tyrion studied her as he moved his goblet in small circles letting the wine swirl inside. When she saw he wasn't exactly responding, she then specified, "right now."

Tyrion finally broke into a devilish grin and he took one last swig of his wine. "Then who am I to argue?" He set his goblet down and began unlacing the front of his vest.

"I want you to promise me something first," Sansa quickly added and Tyrion lifted an eyebrow figuring this was the catch, "When I bear you a son, and he comes of age and we leave Kings Landing for Winterfell, promise me we will never return here."

Tyrion surely wouldn't mind, yet at the same time using his mind, and his wits against everyone at court was what he was good at. It was what he was known for. In yet he couldn't imagine his life getting any better with Joffrey ruling. The little monster was to be wed in just two months and then the devil would have everything secured for himself. If Tyrion were to leave Winterfell it certainly wouldn't be a bad idea.

"You have my word." Tyrion responded and layers of his own clothing steadily came off piece by piece as he approached the bed. He discarded his boots and shirts leaving only his slacks on. His eyes watched her pull off the last bit of cloth that covered her and when she freed herself from it, the visual appeal of her body was enough to stiffen his cock.

Sansa sat awkwardly on the bed and Tyrion picked up the small stool that helped him into the high bed and set it in front of Sansa. She gave a halfhearted smile as he shrugged. As he stepped up onto it, his face leveled with hers. He placed his hands on her knees and gestured for her to open them. She complied stiffly, as no other man had ever seen her in such a position.

With her legs spread his hands smoothed up her thighs and then behind her rear. With some strength he pulled her forward more and Sansa was surprised. He then leaned in to kiss her mouth. Her eyes closed, and the thought of kissing filled her belly with butterflies. It wasn't ideal though. She tasted the wine on his lips and tongue, and felt the scruff of his beard, burn her soft skin as he lingered there, guiding her own lips. But a new feeling filled her. She always thought such a deep kiss would be with a man who was more younger. A man who was clean shaven and taller. A man who was...what? still a boy?...Who? Like Joffrey? No that's not what I want... and so Sansa reminded herself that she was sealing away her inner child. She forced the little girl in her to stop with such foolish desires, because things that looked and sounded too good to be true were often just that.

Tyrion was not something she wanted. He may have been a dwarf, and a drunk and a womanizer, but right now he was only one who showed remorse. The only one who cared about her actual well being. The only one who asked about her after the death of her mother and brother and even reminded her that he swore to protect her. The only one who, after Joffrey wanted her relieved of her clothing on her wedding night for the bedding ceremony, stood up to him, and threatened he would cut off the little shit's cock and replace it with a wooden one. She didn't owe him anything, but then again neither did he.

He was forced to marry her and she knew that. But they didn't have to be unhappy with eachother for eternity.

So Sansa let herself go, and bravely reciprocated a sudden desire within her. She kissed him back and placed a hand on his neck. She pulled him in closer and it made Tyrion's heart quicken and his blood pump harder. He was used to a response like this with common whores. But Sansa was his wife, and she was showing him that she actually wanted him. He broke the kiss and his lips traveled to her cheek and down her neck. He even nipped at the tender skin there and her breath hitched.

He shifted his weight against her, guiding her to lay down against the bed. She did so and pushed up against it so her legs didn't drape off the sides of the bed. She then spread them, assuming he would get right to it with her. He smirked at her and gave a slight shake of his head in wonder. "My dearest Sansa."

"Don't speak to me like a child." The butterflies had disappeared and now a fire was welling up inside of her, "I'm not a child anymore."

"You surely are not my Lady." He unlaced the front of his slacks and pulled them off revealing how hard his cock was. Sansa felt herself flush at the sight. The only cock she'd ever seen was that of her brothers. Most by mistake and even then, they were always flaccid. She never knew what a hard cock looked like, and seeing Tyrion's made her nervous. And Tyrion could tell.

"Like I said, we do not have to do this," Tyrion wasn't one to ever make sure how his partner was doing. You don't ever make sure with whores who were ready to fuck for hours at a time. But Sansa was a type that Tyrion never experienced or at least hadn't experienced in years. And as his wife he certainly felt it was his duty to make sure she was okay the entire time.

"I still want to." Sansa breathed. Even though she was nervous, something about this thrilled her as well, and she began to feel such an ache pulse between her legs. She'd never felt such a strange longing.

Tyrion leaned on top of her and began trailing kisses against her soft skin. He gave attention to her breasts and played with the tender nipples, drawing out sweet moans and soft gasps from her. He drew ever downward and Sansa was unsure of why he continued to go so low. "M-my Lord, what are you-?" She was at a loss for words as Tyrion's mouth rested slightly above her pussy. And he kissed her lower lips.

"Tyrion!" She jumped as she felt him spread open the folds and dip his tongue.

He looked up at her postively delighted with himself and told her to relax. "You'll enjoy it."

And she did. She squirmed at the pleasure he gave her. Her body writhed when his tongue brushed over her sensitive clit. Sansa wasn't as pure as she seemed. Many nights she would touch herself, but never had she felt such bliss roll through her body. As he built her up her breath quickened and her voice became louder. He took pleasure in the idea that she could probably be heard in the next room over and that her handmaids who stood outside would surely be gossiping about this. All but one of course.

Shae crossed his mind, but as soon as it came, he pushed it away. He loved Shae, but he had responsibilities to the realm. Just like Sansa did as well, and if Sansa accepted her role, then so would he.

He then slowly inserted his middle finger within her, and watched as she bit her lower lip. Her hands smoothed down her belly and she bravely ran her fingers through his dirty blond curls. And this excited him far more than he imagined. His tongue continued to lap at her folds and the pleasure eventually culminated inside of her. She gave a few hitched breaths and finally her breath left her. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as an orgasm swirled through her core and ran up her body. Seconds later her thighs spasmed and a shuddering breath raked through her.

And she was gorgeous. The sun that spilled into the room illuminated her body, and she practically glowed from the sheen of sweat that gathered on her skin. She was drenched between her legs and this satisfied Tyrion. He knew her orgasm would relax her further and make her wetter than before. He knew this would help her in the long run and ease any possible pain. But before he took her he still wanted to ready her and so he inserted another finger slowly to work her opening more. He didn't touch her clit anymore as he knew it would be far too sensitive to the touch, so he focused on the movement of his fingers inside her. Gently pushing up and in and withdrawing back only to push in again.

Sansa placed a hand on her forehead. She almost became dizzy at how good everything felt. She even protested with soft moans when he pulled his fingers away.

He sat up and positioned himself between her long legs and slid his cock between her folds to gather some of her wetness. And when he felt they were both ready, he slid inside her. She gave a muffled moan and he felt her tense around him, so he slowed.

"Does it hurt Sansa?" Tyrion asked. Sansa could hear the concern in his voice and she looked at him, still drunk with her rolling orgasm.

"No, my love." The words rolled off her tongue faster than she could stop them. She used to fantasize about her first time and always imagined she'd repeat those words. But she felt silly for having said them. For Tyrion though, it struck something inside of him. He had hoped that maybe one day Sansa could possibly grow to want him, maybe one day even love him. But he never imagined those words would ever come from her lips so willingly. It was possible she didn't mean it, but it made him smile at her and she reciprocated his look.

He continued pushing himself in and Sansa dropped her head back against the pillows and felt him fill her completely. It felt uncomfortable. The feeling of being stretched and filled was odd yet pleasurable.

Tyrion withdrew and pushed into her again. Sansa focused on the feeling of this. The pleasure wasn't as intense as her clit being fondled, but the ache she had within her walls eased with the presence of his cock. With each slide into her she felt relief, and voiced her satisfaction with moans and delightful sounds that helped Tyrion's own orgasm along.

His pace quickened but he tried to make sure he had some control. He didn't want her experience soured by his own desire to fuck her with abandon. But by the gods was she firm around his cock.

"Sansa," Tyrion looked at his wife and Sansa opened her eyes, "Do you want me to relieve myself within you?"

Tyrion continued to rock back and forth inside her and the question, mixed with the sensation of being fucked, made her decision difficult. She didn't want him to stop and naturally assumed he would go until he'd spilled within her, but once again he gave her a choice. An important one at that. Coming inside her meant the possibility of having a child nine months later. Tyrion was clearly okay either way as he asked for what she wanted.

"Yes," she sighed with content. She understood what she was risking. But in that moment she felt her whole world would be alright now. And so he came. He groaned and gave his last few thrusts, and Sansa winced as he wasn't as delicate in that moment, but she blossomed under him and took what he had.

Minutes of silence passed and only their breath could be heard. Tyrion slowly pulled himself out and rolled over to her side.

"Well, so now you're a Lannister."

"Only by name," she quickly retorted. Tyrion smirked at the fire in her eyes. This would indeed prove to be one of the most complex relationships he would ever had.

"As you wish."

Sansa looked over to her small Lord and smiled, "I knew you were coming into the room around this time," she confessed, "You usually do."

"Is that so?" Tyrion was intrigued now, "So you planned all this? You weren't actually in our bedroom to get some rest?" She shook her head and bit her lower lip.

And this made Tyrion feel more welcome by her side.

"I want to stay in bed for the rest of the day," she whispered.

"My Lady we have responsibilities for the day," he reminded her.

"I don't care. Let Joffrey get angry," Sansa was hesitant with her next few words, but she said them anyway, "Fuck the king," her voice came out much lower than she anticipated but perhaps that was for the better.

Tyrion had a nice laugh over her choice words, especially with the way fuck awkwardly rolled off her tongue, "Sansa, such language from your pretty mouth. But I'm glad you feel the same as I do."

* * *

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed it! I may make this a multi-chapter fic leading up to the Royal Wedding, but we'll see. I'm keeping it one-shot for now, but if you guys may be interested in an actual chaptered fic, let me know.


	2. Chapter 2

Due to the AMAZING response I received on the first chapter of this (which was only meant to be a stand-alone/one-shot fic) I have finally decided to make it a chaptered fic. I haven't written a fic in forever and all you reviewers/followers/favoriters literally almost brought me to tears. Thankyou for being awesome and for reading. Nothing makes me happier than a review, even if it's a simple one to two words type of review.

I also want to take a moment to mention that I am a dark writer, and since this would be dealing with more than just sex between these two awesome characters, there are more darker elements as we move along. I don't want to spoil it, but at the same time I don't want to sour anyone's enjoyment of my fic when they didn't know what to expect. So as a warning, there will be a scene in either chapter three or four that will deal heavily with rape. Now before anyone starts freaking, DON'T WORRY, it won't actually happen, but the fic will graze over that, so just a heads up/warning.

* * *

The next few days went by almost awkwardly. Tyrion had been overwhelmed with his duties as Master of Coin. He had been relieved that Olenna agreed to pay for half the expenses of the Royal Wedding, but by the gods, was most of the amusement, and decorations ordered necessary? Tyrion found himself drinking quite more frequently as the Kingdom entered into it's final two months before the wedding.

The bedroom chamber doors opened and Tyrion inwardly grinned. He looked forward to seeing Sansa's beauty again during midday, but to his surprise as he turned around he was confronted by Shae.

"I hear you enjoyed your child bride?" Shae closed the door with quite some force, and Tyrion held out a hand in protest.

He was going to explain himself to her but instead he started with the old, "you shouldn't be here."

"I should never be here! You never want me here! Especially now that your cock has a tighter and younger cunt to fuck."

"Watch your tongue. Sansa is my wife."

"And I mean to never offend her and only you. You know I love her and believe she should be protected from your family. And now I believe she should be protected from you."

"Lower your voice Shae," Tyrion warned, hoping to all seven gods that no one could hear her.

"I will not lower my voice," Shae shot back, " Tell me, what did you do? Did you force her? Remind her of her duties to the realm and to your cock? Did you force her to drink until she agreed to fuck you?"

Tyrion almost couldn't look at Shae. She continued with her absurd accusations until he couldn't take anymore. "SHE WANTED-" he stopped short realizing he was completely losing control over his anger. He then lower his voiced, "She wanted to." he could see the frustration and confusion and hurt all at once in Shae expression. "She came to me, and said, and I qoute, I want to lie with my husband."

"Then she was lying, clearly. She did so because she feels she had to do what is right. Why couldn't you see that?" Shae reasoned.

"Do you think I'm a fool? I denied her, and told her that just because she felt it was her responsibility didn't mean she had to. I gave her a choice, every step of the way."

Shae could feel the heat collecting in her cheeks. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She was stronger than that. "She may have wanted you, but she is still a child, and you should have denied her." Her voice shook slightly and Tyrion finally looked up at her.

"Deny my wife? Deny her for the rest of our married lives? How do you think-"

"Do you love me?" She cut him off and Tyrion took in a deep breath.

"You know that I do." Tyrion looked her dead in the eye. He did love her. He loved every inch of her, even when she had these fiery arguments with him. But he also yearned for Sansa. Yes she was beautiful and young and naive, but she was strong as well, and she used her mind to the best of her ability to stay alive. Attributes that Tyrion loved in those who were less fortunate in a world that valued only a powerful hand who knew how to wield a sword.

"So then lie with me. We haven't in so long." She bent down and held his face in her hands. Tyrion wanted to, he wanted to reassure Shae that he cared for her, and loved her and genuinely enjoyed his time with her...but things were different now. He'd only just consummated his marriage a few short days ago. Jumping into bed with Shae right now. It suddenly felt wrong to him. And so he grabbed her hands in his and without looking at her, he shook his head.

"I can't," his eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he knew she wouldn't take this lightly, so he added, "not now."

Shae's expression deadened and she pulled her hands away, "You never want to," the handmaiden stood and turned towards the door. "She may be fucking you, but she doesn't love you," and with that, she left.

* * *

Late in the day Sansa found herself in the godswood. She spent most of her afternoon there to think. She stopped praying to the gods the day her mother and brother died, but she still silently held hope that one day the gods would send her some relief. She truly believed her only way out now was to have a son, and leave for Winterfell when he came of age. Perhaps if she played her cards right, they could leave even earlier. Maybe she could plead for Tyrion to let them leave after the birth of her first son.

What if I have a girl? The thought sent shivers down Sansa's spine. She once thought the same when she was betrothed to Joffrey. What if I only have girls? Why did she do this to herself? Torture herself with these thoughts. Sansa cleared her mind and decided it was time to leave. She gathered her skirts in her left hand and walked up the pathway that led to the castle. Her other hand touched the cold stone wall on her right as she made her way up the steps.

"What do you pray about?"

Sansa jumped slightly at the bold voice and her heart sank. "Your grace," Sansa curtsied and looked at the blond king before her. It seemed as though he'd been waiting for her. "I was simply praying for good favor on the kingdom and your wedding," she lied.

"Is that so?" Joffrey took a few steps closer to Sansa, and it was then that she began to realize how deserted the godswood really was. Were the bushes really so high?

"I don't think the gods will ever hear prayers from a cursed woman," The ends of Joffrey's lips curled up in a cruel way. "It's been more than a year, and you have yet to give my Uncle a child. Clearly the gods are unfavorable to filthy traitors. Or maybe my uncle was right. He's so small and pathetic he can't even properly get a child into you."

Sansa couldn't stand Joffrey's snide insults, even more so now that Tyrion was her husband. "He's very capable your grace. Quite possibly more so," her eyes trailed down her Kings body and then looked back up into his pale eyes, "than others." Joffrey's nostrils flared slightly and his grin quickly turned into a grimace.

Knowing that she may have crossed the line she quickly added, "But the fault is with me, your grace. Perhaps you're right. The gods do not favor me. When I come here, I also pray that they may see how loyal I am. Not only to the realm, but also to my King. Hopefully they will bestow their favor upon me once more." Sansa watched as Joffrey's fingers fidgeted. A sign that he was thinking of what he would do next. He then scoffed at her.

"The only chance for the gods giving you favor is if _I_ give you that child. I'm sure I mentioned this once before. Don't you remember Sansa? Your wedding night?"

"Yes your grace. How could I forget the night my husband threatened to replace your cock with a wooden one," Sansa reminded Joffrey and internally she knew she was skirting a fine line but inside she relished his dumbfounded look. "I meant to bring it up in order to apologize on his behalf. I never was able to before. Though I know you've pardoned him on account of his drunkenness."

SMACK!

The sound echoed in the godswood as Joffrey slapped Sansa across her pretty face. If she were younger she may have stumbled back a bit. If she were more naive she may have even cried. But her skin was no longer the fine porcelain that would crack under rough treatment. No, that porcelain shattered years ago, and she rebuilt it with steel. Her cold eyes looked up at her king. "Forgive me your grace. I meant no offense in bringing up a horrid memory. Only an apology. Forgive me, and my husband." She then curtsied once more, hoping he'd let her leave.

"Bring it up again, and I'll do more than hit your face." He threatened and she hoped he'd leave but he didn't. His hands caught her wrists and he shoved her back against the grey stone wall.

"My King, please," her breathing quickened at his actions, and now real terror crossed her face as Joffrey pressed his body weight against her and gripped her hair back so that she looked up at him.

"Here's your chance then Sansa. Show your loyalty to your King." He kissed her hard and it was the most unpleasant kiss she'd ever had. She kept her lips sealed shut as he forcefully had her. He pulled away and then kissed her long neck. And when he didn't hear any verbal response from her, his teeth bit slightly into her soft skin.

She finally screamed, "please your grace!" and her ears heard the popping of stitches from the shoulder of her dress as he roughly tore it to see more of her milky white skin. But before he could go further a third voice interrupted.

"Y-your grace," Joffrey picked his head up and looked up at Lancel who stood at the top of the steps, "forgive me your grace, but the Queen wishes to see you."

Joffrey almost rolled his eyes, "Tell her, that whatever it is, it can wait. The King is busy."

"She explained to me that it was very important regarding your wedding to Lady Margaery." Lancel insisted and Joffrey gave a heavy annoyed sigh. He pulled back from Lady Sansa and left her without a word.

Sansa balanced her back against the stone wall in order to keep her weight up. She almost felt dizzy over what just happened and for a second she thought she would lose the strength in her legs to stand. She took a deep shuddering breath and then looked up at the top of the steps. She could see Joffrey's back and as she watched him go she hoped he could feel her eyes burning holes through him.

* * *

"He hit you.." Tyrion didn't even need an explanation for the red mark that stained Sansa's cheek. Sansa gave him an exhausted smile, one that almost communicated to him a feeling of, _yes he hit me, what else is new?_

"He tore your dress? What else did he do?" Sansa could hear the anger rising in Tyrions voice. She then tilted her head for him to see the mark that he also left on the base of her neck. It was red, but Joffrey didn't break the skin. Tyrion kept his mouth closed tight. He could feel himself ready to curse the King, but he knew better. Words traveled even if he was only in the presence of one of the women who hated Joffrey the most.

Sansa took a seat at their table and stared at the wine. She then softly spoke, "I should have fought him off..."

"No," Tyrion was swift with his response, "he would have beat you more, and worse with guards. Or he would have had Gregor Clegane do it for him."

With unsure hands she began to pour wine into her goblet and drink. Tyrion filled his own cup and sat across from his wife. Candles and wall torches illuminated the room and he watched Sansa swish the wine in her mouth and then swallow. Her eyes focused on a spot on the stone floor, and he wondered what was on her mind.

"What if I have a girl?" She broke the silence. Tyrion raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in topic.

"What about it?" He asked confused, "If we have a girl we can name her Catelyn, if that's what you mean" Tyrion answered, "I'm sure that would be a nice insult to the king." He raised his glass as if in a toast and drank. And then he saw it. A genuine small laugh from her broken lips. But tears then came. "Sansa..." concern crossed his face and he thought that maybe his humor may have been too much.

"I'm sorry, I just..." Sansa wiped the tears on the sleeve of her dress. She did find his humor amusing, and while he answered a question she didn't mean, she still cried at his answer. The thought of being able to name her daughter Catelyn. "...would you actually allow it?" She asked.

"Would I allow us to name her Catelyn?" He clarified and she nodded. "Of course. I've said it before that your mother may have wanted to execute me, but she was admirable. She was strong, protective, and knew what it took when it came to war." He spouted nothing but good words and he spoke them with honesty. "A name such as hers would be a high honour. And oh how bitter my family would be. Catelyn Lannister. They'd forbid it. But she'd be ours Sansa. And nobody could take that right away, not even my father." Tyrion drank his wine and Sansa stared at him through her teary eyes.

"If we have a girl, though, she'll be tortured, don't think Joffrey will simply let her grow up in peace. It won't be until I have a son that we would be able to leave for Winterfell."

Tyrion hadn't thought about all the complications that would come with children. Sansa would need to have a son to leave, and suddenly the thought of having more girls at the mercy of Joffrey left a sour taste in Tyrion's mouth. They wouldn't be just any girls. They'd be his own flesh and blood. And Joffrey made it quite clear that everyone was his to torment. Lannister's themselves were no exception.

"There's nothing we can do about it at this moment in time, Sansa, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Tyrion admitted hoping she would realize their best chance was simply to stay alive with their wits.

"We can run," Sansa hoped Tyrion would listen to her because as far as she knew, the two of them were both in a similar situation, living at the mercy of a mad King. "You're smart and have allies."

"No." Tyrion knew better.

"We will never live in peace if we stay here. But if we leave, we could go-"

"Go where Sansa? North? No, Roose will surely capture us. The south? Lannister's aren't exactly welcome at Dorne, I'm sure you know why."

"We could," Sansa wasn't sure if she agreed with the words coming out of her own mouth but it was the only idea that came to her, "Essos. We could cross the narrow sea to Essos."

Tyrion broke out into laughter, "Oh my dearest Sansa. If I ever end up in Essos, it better be because I was exiled there."

Sansa was losing her patience with her husband. "So what do we do!"

The smile from Tyrions mouth was gone and he welcomed a more serious look on his face as he stared at the young woman before him. "You want to know what we do Sansa? We read. We gain more knowledge. We use our charm to seduce others to spill valuable information from their mouths. We stay one step ahead of everyone else and we become the smartest players in the room. That is what we do Sansa." Tyrion's voice was solid and Sansa listened carefully. "Don't ever mistake inaction for weakness. Rebellion isn't always loud and noticeable."

"Besides, you still have family here in Westeros. Your aunt Lysa Arryn and your cousin Robin. Your brother Jon Snow. It's also relatively agreed upon by the council that your sister Arya might still be alive. Running away to Essos isn't the answer," Tyrion stood from the table and finished his wine. He set the goblet down and walked to the side of his wife, "I will you give you a son Sansa, you have my word. And when the time comes, we will leave for Winterfell. "

* * *

The next few days went by in agony. Joffrey was in a sour mood and called many to witness his usual bouts of public humiliation, torture and execution. A drunk was brought before him, his crime being that he cursed his king while in a drunken stupor a few nights back within one of the city's taverns. One by one his fingers were sliced off as Joffrey remarked that maybe now he would learn to sober up with no fingers to clasp a cup. The next was the wife of a butcher. The butcher had been freshly executed a mere few hours ago for the crime of selling the kingdom meat that had unknowingly gone sour and gotten quite a few in the court sick. By law there really was nothing to charge the wife by, but still Joffrey didn't care. He ordered the Mountain to do whatever the giant so pleased with the woman.

When finally Sansa's stomach couldn't take one more moment of the hell that unfolded before her eyes, she left.

A son. That's all she needed to get out of Kings Landing.

Sansa found her husband scratching away with quill on parchment in his designated 'master of coin' quarters. It was an open room, but this part of the kingdom was a quiet place.

"Sansa, is everything alright?" Tyrion stood from his chair surprised to see her. She'd never come to him while he worked.

"Yes, I just," Sansa bent down as Tyrion came to her. "I needed to see you," her hands cupped his cheeks and she kissed Tyrion in earnest. "I need to have you."

"As you wish my Lady," and Tyrion returned the kiss.

Sansa's fingers began unlacing his jerkin with haste.

"Lie on the bench." Tyrion ordered and Sansa turned to look at the ornate cushioned bench behind her. The dress Sansa was wearing was simplistic. One she was easily able to slip out of by unlacing the side and letting it drop to the ground. She kept her corset on and her chemise underneath. To Tyrion it didn't bother him. There wasn't much of a need to be completely undressed.

Sansa sat on the narrow edge of the bench and the two continued kissing. She opened her legs and Tyrion stood between them. It wasn't long before he had his own breeches pushed down around his boots, and his cock was inside her. She wasn't as wet before but the feel of him pushing inside still felt good.

This time she also tried to control how vocal she was. They weren't in the safety of their room, and Sansa worried someone would pass by or hear them. Tyrion on the other hand felt no shame. Let someone come, he thought daringly as he thrusted into her. He was rougher this time but he still made sure to not let himself go. He focused on Sansa's pleasure as well, letting his palm rub against her clit in circular motions to work her up. He had a need to satisfy her. Perhaps he felt he should do so because he feared she would tire of him. He'd heard hundreds of stories of countless unsatisfied women in marriages. How their dull sex lives would lead them to adultery. Tyrion never thought Sansa would ever come to him in the first place, and now that she allowed herself to be his, he wanted to make sure she would be well treated in every way.

And he looked at Sansa the way any woman would want to be looked at. With love and desire. He saw how pure she looked as she kept her eyes closed and how she would bite her lip. How her chest rose and fell and how she gripped the top of her corset to keep it from sliding down as Tyrion pushed into her. Innocence still held her even though she was no longer a virgin.

Finally a broken moan came from her and she tried her best to stifle it, but she was so close to coming and Tyrion could feel her walls close in around him. He quickened his circular gesture on her clit and finally she couldn't take it anymore. Tyrion wasn't far behind her, and as she came he pushed through, thrusting faster until he followed right after her, spilling himself inside.

Tyrion bent forward against his wife and his forehead rested just below her breasts. He stabled himself by placing his palms flat on the cushioned bench on either side of her. Sansa opened her eyes as she felt some of the weight of her Lord against her and she inwardly smiled like a little girl. The idea of wearing him out satisfied her and as he rested her fingers groomed through his curls.

Sansa was still conscious of their surroundings. They were half naked and anybody could come around, but the open room was delightful, and the cold breeze that whisked through from the terrace calmed Sansa even more. She could of lay there for an eternity, playing with Tyrion's hair and feeling that breeze. It wasn't until Tyrion stirred that she came back to her reality. He stood up and began pulling his breeches back up. Sansa also stood and gathered her dress. She wanted to say something to break up the silence, but there was nothing to really say. All she did was re-lace the side of her dress back up as she tried to think of some sort of conversation starter.

"Sansa," Tyrion finally spoke and Sansa was relieved, "I have a gift for you." He finished lacing his jerkin and then made his way over to his desk.

"You do?" Sansa's eyes lit up. It had been a long while since she'd received a gift, and she wondered what it could be.

He pulled out a large and rather heavy book, and for a moment he wondered if Sansa would be amused. Books could be relatively boring, or so he was told. All he could do was hope she'd have some appreciation for it.

And she did. Sansa smiled as Tyrion handed her quite a large book. "The Age of Heroes. It covers stories from Aegon the conqueror, Bran the Builder, Lann the Clever, the Grey King of the Iron Islands and countless more." Tyrion handed her the book and she held it close to her bosom. "I was going to give to you tonight, but now is just as good."

"Better now so that I can read it tonight," Sansa's enthusiasm captivated him and he smiled.

"Good, now if you'd excuse me my lady," Tyrion looked back at the mountain of papers and documents he needed to review, "I have work to do."

"Of course my lord,"

Tyrion watched the sway of her dress as she left and he agreed to himself to wait until she was out of sight before he went back to his desk. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, and while he knew he certainly liked the girl, he felt a swell of something more than fondness, more than even lust. But finally when she was out of sight, he pushed his feelings aside and concentrated on his work.

* * *

Notes :: So! Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Over the course of the next few days Sansa and Tyrion had more to talk about. The book he had gifted her with proved to be a turning point and Tyrion only wished he'd given it to her sooner. They first spoke about Lann the Clever.

"So Lann the Clever used nothing but his wits to claim Casterly Rock?"

"Indeed. A story that proves that you don't have to be a warrior to get what you want."

"And is it true he stole gold from the sun to make his hair blond?" Sansa knew better, but she wanted to hear what Tyrion had to say.

"That, is actually very true. Lann was the personification of gold." Tyrion reveled in the myths and legends that surrounded the early history of his family.

"I know that's not true," Sansa smiled cheekily, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Lann was a filthy little trickster. And everyone knows your wealth comes from the mines littered with gold."

"Smart girl, what else do you know of my family's history?"

"I know that Loren Lannister was the first to surrender to the Targaryens when they came to Westeros." Sansa challenged.

"Yes, well, Aegon certainly had three large fire-breathing dragons. I believe that's more than enough to make anyone bend the knee."

They spoke of the other heroes in the book, Bran the Builder, Symeon Stareyes and Garth Greenhand. After each story she read Sansa would engage Tyrion. Asking him more questions and discussing details. And on and on the conversations would go. Almost every day. And every day they learned more about eachother.

* * *

Finally, the Kingdom entered into it's last week. Festivities in the capitol had surged in anticipation for the Royal Wedding. Highborn guests were making grand entrances from all over Westeros. And Sansa was relieved that King Joffrey was far too busy to do anything of leisure.

The day had just begun, and it was going to be a long and busy one. Tyrion would be off to welcome guests to Kings Landing and Sansa had agreed to go along with Margaery and her grandmother Olenna to welcome Mace Tyrell.

Shae arrived early to Sansa and Tyrion's chambers, not bothering to knock as usual. She found the two talking at their table, and the blissful look on their faces struck a chord in Shae.

"Oh Shae!" Sansa saw her handmaiden out of the corner of her eye and was surprised to see that she had come in with no warning.

"I should probably go," Tyrion was quick to excuse himself but his eyes met with Shae's as he left the room. She gave him a vicious stare, before going towards Lady Sansa to ready her for the day.

"Sansa is anything bothering you?" Shae asked as she combed through the girl's long red hair.

"No," Sansa looked at her through the mirror, "why do you ask?"

"I worry about you," Shae's voice lowered, "I worry how the King and the Lannisters treat you and how your husband treats you."

Sansa swallowed, "the King treats me well, and-"

"Sansa, I had hoped you would have grown to trust me," Shae paused to look at Sansa's reflection in the mirror, "I know the King treats his dogs better than he treats you, and the rest of the Lannisters are no better. Tyrion is no better."

Sansa almost couldn't look at her. Not because what Shae said insulted her, but it embarrassed her. She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel anything for Tyrion. But now with Shae's words it seemed like having feelings for Tyrion betrayed the honor of herself and her family.

"The only thing Lannisters want are the advancement of their own agendas." Shae informed her and Sansa was confused. When did Shae become an expert on the Lannister family? And not only that, but how could Shae say this? She was bold, and the accusations that came from her could get her head cut off.

But instead of arguing over this Sansa bitterly replied, "I know that."

And Sansa suddenly felt the casket that she tried so hard to bury burst open again. Back when her father was murdered, no one would sit and listen to the anxiety in her voice. No one was there for here when she cried over the deaths of her youngest brothers. No one consoled her when news reached her ears that her mother's throat had been cut, and the head of Robb's direwolf had been sewn to his decapitated body. She didn't trust Margeary to talk with because she was betrothed to the very person whom Sansa had wanted to kill since the moment her father's head rolled. Shae would have kept her secrets safe but she still didn't feel safe to lay all her concerns and feelings onto a handmaiden. Everyone at court was a threat to her. Everyone, including Tyrion.

As that thought crept into her mind, it felt foreign. She'd been pursuing a relationship with Tyrion because it was in her best interest. But he was still a Lannister. He was still part of the family that had annihilated her own. Sansa knew this. In yet, Tyrion was kind to her. He vocally expressed his remorse for her loss. Sansa knew he wasn't exactly the one who cut her fathers head off. He wasn't the one who shoved a blade in the very heart of Robb, nor did he cut Catelyn's throat to the bone himself. In the beginning she had loathed him at first but he listened to her, and held her hand. He even cursed his own father in front of her, would speak ill of Cersei and Joffrey.

But was that enough to reward Tyrion with her trust, and affection?

And when Tyrion became the target of King Joffrey's torment, it would always be those moments that she would realize that they were both caged, and subjected to whatever Joffrey wanted to do to them.

But was that enough to grow a relationship from? Having common ground of being at the mercy of a mad king?

"Sansa?"

Sansa was so caught up in her own thoughts that she had tuned Shae out and when her handmaiden caught her attention Sansa looked at her, "I'm sorry, what did you say?'

"I asked if Tyrion forces you." Shae asked.

"Forces me to what?" Sansa was sure she knew what Shae was asking, but she was hesitant to respond.

"To lay with him."

Sansa's jaw locked as she stared at Shae. She felt a heat creep up her cheeks because in truth she wasn't sure if she wanted to admit that she went to him willingly. "I- I'm not sure this is an appropriate conversation." Sansa tried to escape from the topic altogether but still Shae pressed on.

"You can be honest with me Sansa."

"Why are you so interested? It does not matter one way or the other."

"You don't have to take it." Shae spoke in earnest.

"I go to him willingly," Sansa finally answered in hopes Shae would stop.

"Because you've grown to love him?"

"Of course not!" Sansa was quick with her reply."I go to him because I can't take it here anymore. His father has commanded that when I have a son we could leave for Winterfell, and right now I'd give anything to go home, even if it's memories will haunt me. It's my home. It is the only place I have left. And I will return to it."

"So that is your plan? Give the Lannisters everything their hearts desire? You would give the Lannisters your home?" Shae crouched down by Sansa's side and looked up at her lady. "They have Casterly Rock, Kingslanding, they've sent Myrcella to marry in the south, and now you will carry on the name for them in the north."

"I've learned to keep my mouth shut. Now I'm doing what I can to get out of here. What else do you expect of me?" An anger inside of Sansa began to well, but she kept calm and listened to Shae.

"What do you think would happen if you denied your Lord?"

"I'd forever live here, imprisoned, mocked, and mistreated."

"It doesn't have to be that way, Sansa," Shae urged. "If you never produced an heir, what do you think would truly happen?"

Sansa's eyebrows furrowed, "I don't know," Sansa gave it a quick thought, "they'd probably kill me eventually. What good am I to the Lannisters if I don't give them what they want?"

"Exactly. But I don't think they'd kill you. The Lannisters would probably tire of you. Your marriage could be annulled if you never bore any children. You'd be able to put a stop to their plans for you." Shae was certain this would be the outcome. She'd seen it happen many times in her lifetime.

"Tyrion would hate me,"

"You owe Tyrion nothing-"

"I know that." Sansa was sharp in her response. "I know that I owe him nothing. I know that even his kindness cannot take away from the fact that his entire family has destroyed mine."

"In yet you're still willing to give him what his family wants? He may be kind to you my Lady, but after all that kindness and affection, Tyrion is still a Lannister. And Lannister's are very clever."

"Get out," Sansa didn't want to listen to her anymore.

"Forgive me my lady but your hair," Shae wasn't nearly done but Sansa didn't care.

"Please. Get. Out." Sansa was firm, and Shae apologized once more before she took her leave.

Sansa breathed and closed her eyes. Her mind was spinning as she let their conversation sink into her. Eventually she began to believe Shae. In her mind Shae was right. Having a son wasn't the only choice. She could end her misery in a different way. A more honorable one. A way that she could be more proud of. One that maybe her family would be proud of.

Becoming Lord of Winterfell and the Warden of the North would be a considerable step up in status for Tyrion. Even if his family was at the top tier. He himself didn't own a land, and his father laughed at the idea of giving him Casterly Rock. So he would rise from the ashes of her family to claim what was hers and hers alone. And all at once the story of Lann the Clever replayed in her mind. And Tyrion's words came to mind. _Indeed. A story that proves that you don't have to be a warrior to get what you want._

Sansa had heard growing up that Tyrion was quite the clever man in his family, despite his physical set backs. And she wondered if Tyrion's kindness was true. She knew for certain he wasn't an evil man, but it was common knowledge that kindness in the right moments drew affection from others. And affection turned into trust. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain if Sansa bore him a child. But only Sansa could allow for it to happen.

With her, he would gain a better standing with his family. With her, the Lannisters would truly win the North.

Without her, that was a different story, and suddenly a passion worked within her and the goal of having a son slowly began to deteriorate.

Sansa called upon her other handmaiden to finish her hair, and as the woman worked, Sansa seeped into her mind, figuring out her next move.

* * *

By midday Tyrion had entered into his and Sansa's bed chambers. He would be going out in another hour or so to welcome Prince Doran to Kings Landing. When Sansa had finished greeting Mace Tyrell, she made her way to the bedchambers as well and found Tyrion already there.

"You're going to see Doran Martell?" Sansa questioned and quickly added, "I wish to accompany you."

"No need Sansa, Bronn and Podrick will do just fine."

"I wasn't really asking for your permission."

Tyrion gave her a strange and surprised look, "You do know about the bad blood between the Martells and Lannisters?"

"Elia Martell was married to Rhaegar Targaryen. When the Lannisters sacked the capital the rest of the royal family was killed, including Elia and her children." Sansa crossed her arms against her chest, "And now you're going to convince me that I won't be safe. But I'm going." Sansa argued, and Tyrion wasn't in the mood to have a debate at that moment.

The four of them stood there waiting and waiting. Bronn, Podrick, Tyrion and Sansa. All four had wondered when this man would show up, and in the midst of it all Bronn began cracking inappropriate jokes about Dornish men. Immediately Tyrion stepped in to shush his knight as Bronn certainly cared not about his language in front of a lady.

"If this prince of Dorne is so important, why did they send you?" Bronn looked at Tyrion. Tyrion explained the bad blood between the Lannisters and Martells and Bronn found it rather amusing that they sent Tyrion. If anything happened to Tyrion, well, he was just the family imp in his father's eyes. No big loss there.

Finally, from a distance they could see the approaching houses of Dorne. All except the Martells.

When the bannermen approached, they explained that Doran was unable to come and that Oberyn had arrived in his stead early before dawn.

Sansa could sense a change in Tyrion's demeanor at the announcement of Prince Oberyn. Tyrion did his best to glaze over the information and had men from the city watch escort the guests to their quarters in the Red Keep.

When they left, Tyrion quickly made his way to his horse.

"We must find Prince Oberyn before he kills somebody or severs something," Tyrion explained.

"And just where are we going to find a single Dornish man in this large of a city?" Bronn asked.

"When you're famous for fucking half of Westeros and you just arrived at the capital after two weeks of bad road, where would you go?"

Bronn scoffed and told to Tyrion that he'd most likely end up sleeping, but then again Bronn admitted he was getting old.

"So he's at Littlefinger's brothel?" Sansa spoke and Tyrion nodded.

"He must be," Tyrion then looked up at his wife, "I'd tell Podrick to escort you back to the Red Keep Sansa, but something tells me you wouldn't go."

Sansa gave Tyrion a curt smile, "I wish for nothing more than to meet the prince who wants all the Lannister's heads on spikes."

Sansa picked up her pace and arrived at her horse, mounting it confidently.

Tyrion cleared his throat and straightened his jerkin, "very well then" Tyrion wondered what in the world had gotten into her. Just a few short days ago they were enjoying eachother's intimacy but suddenly Sansa seemed aggravated with him.

At the brothel Tyrion was still hesitant to let Sansa go in, but before he could really reason with her she walked right past him into the main entrance following after Bronn.

"After you, my Lady." Tyrion muttered to himself as he followed right after her.

As they came in they were greeted by a blond man, in blue robes who seemed distracted. Sansa looked around at all the gauzy linens that draped from every doorway and window. She would have kept gawking at the decorations and beauty of the building but her ears picked up a familiar song.

"...with not a soul to hear,"

She grimaced at the tune. And it didn't take long to find out where it had been coming from. They looked through the sheer drapery and Tyrion spotted Prince Oberyn.

"There he is," Tyrion said, he was ready to make his presence known to Oberyn who was in the same room as the singer and a friend, but before he could, a dark skinned woman pushed past the three of them. She was in a hurry and entered the room that Prince Oberyn in. Oberyn seemed quite busy speaking with the two various Lannister men who sat with their whores.

Out of respect Tyrion stood where he was waiting until after Oberyn's conversation to interrupt. But as the three of them watched from afar they witnessed the hostility that grew between the Prince and the two Lannister men.

"You know why all the world hates a Lannister? You think your gold, and your lions, and your gold lions, make you better than everyone."

Sansa smirked to herself inwardly as she listened. Oberyn certainly had it out for Lannisters.

"Can I tell you a secret? You're not a golden lion. You're just a pink little man who's far too slow on the draw."

The tension was thick in the air, and Sansa could feel it even from outside the room. She wondered what the two Lannister men would do, but once they even began to act, Oberyn was already digging his short blade into one of the men's wrist. Sansa jumped slightly as it happened all so fast and the cry of the man was piercing.

It was then that Tyrion knew it was time to interrupt. "Pray for my safe return?" Tyrion humored Bronn, and Sansa. But Sansa was far too distracted with the way Oberyn twisted the dagger into the man's wrist and paid no mind to Tyrion.

"Right, well," Tyrion gathered his wits and walked into the room, with Bronn following right behind him. "Prince Oberyn forgive the intrusion we heard that you might be..." Tyrion's voice trailed off as he watched Oberyn pull the dagger from the man's wrist. Blood spurted out everywhere, and Tyrion simply stopped talking.

Oberyn gave the dwarf no mind as his paramour, Ellaria Sand kissed him deeply.

Even with how awkward the situation was, Sansa watched how passionate the two were in their kissing. Tyrion gave Bronn the briefest of looks and then spoke up once more, "I'm here to welcome you to the capital."

Oberyn and Ellaria continued their kissing, until finally Ellaria stopped.

The first thing Oberyn did was introduce her and then gestured to Tyrion, to introduce him as the King's own uncle imp, but of course he did add his name formally, and let Ellaria know he was the son of Tywin.

"Yes and if there's anything I can do to make your stay-"

"And what are you, his hired killer?" Oberyn arrogantly interrupted Tyrion, clearly uninterested in what the half man had to say, and diverted his attention to Bronn. The former sellsword turned knight explained who he was adding a twist of humor that brought a bit of a laugh to Oberyn.

"And the lady?" Oberyn looked past Tyrion and Bronn and saw Sansa just outside the entrance of the room, behind the sheer drapery.

"Ah yes," Tyrion gestured for her to come, and Sansa stepped into the room, "this is Sansa Lan-"

"Pleased to meet you, Prince Oberyn," Sansa almost spoke in a sing song voice, and once more Tyrion was cutoff. "I'm Sansa Stark."

Tyrions brows furrowed in confusion at Sansa's deliberate use of her maiden name, but he certainly didn't let it go, "Lannister. Sansa Lannister, my wife."

"Ah, the last wolf so I hear." Prince Oberyn made his way towards Sansa and took the girl's hand. His words hit her like ice, but the warmth of his hand calmed her. "My sincerest condolences, my Lady," Tyrion's jaw locked as he watched the suave Oberyn express himself to Sansa. "I know what it's like to lose loved ones. Especially at the hands of a Lannister." The dark handsome man gave her a look of sincerity and Tyrion stood by her side, feeling a tinge of embarrassment.

"Thankyou, Prince Oberyn," Sansa finally uttered.

Tyrion was at a loss of what he should say or do, but quickly Oberyn changed the subject.

"Well, we'll need a few more girls, yes?" Oberyn looked at the three of them. Tyrion shook his head, while Bronn nodded enthusiastically. Sansa wore a more surprised expression on her face as her cheeks flushed. "You don't partake?" Oberyn looked at Tyrion.

"Oh I partook, but now as you can see, I'm married."

Sansa kept quiet, and if Tyrion had given time for Oberyn to speak, the Prince would have no doubt gone into describing how many married couples in the city of Dorne still partook both alone and together, but Tyrion quickly moved the conversation along.

"Prince Oberyn, if I may a word in private?"

The Prince nodded and Sansa watched the two men exit the brothel. Once they were gone she found herself quite alone in the whore house. Well, Bronn and Ellaria were still there.

"So tell me Sansa," the rich accent of Ellaria was thick as the Dornish woman directed her attention to Sansa, "what is it like being with a half man?" Sansa was once more asked such sensitive questions and it put her on edge. But Ellaria wasn't her handmaiden, and so she responded with respect.

"I imagine he is like any other man."

"Hmm, pity he doesn't partake. I've never had a half man before." Ellaria's dark eyes flashed with excitement as she looked at Sansa who was beginning to feel ever uncomfortable. "Is he comparable in size to that of a normal man?" Ellaria surely had no boundaries.

"I...I wouldn't know." It never quite occurred to Sansa to really think about such things. "There are consequences that come with adultery here in the capital," Sansa mentioned. Tyrion was a small man, but really it was only his arms and legs. If she were to compare the size of his head to any other man, it was same size, so she imagined he was quite normal when it came to the size of his cock.

"So I've heard. In Dorne, we don't chastise love." Ellaria took a few steps towards Sansa, "and you, are so beautiful. Timid, from what I can tell, but what extraordinary partners you and your husband could have been." Ellaria lightly touched Sansa's long red hair, and it was then that Sansa believed it was time to go.

"Thank you, Ellaria. You're much too kind," Sansa stepped back and her eyes darted around the room. Where had Bronn run off to? "Excuse me," Sansa bid Ellaria farewell and went out into the main hall of the brothel. She was about to leave the building until her eyes spotted the "knight" in one of the rooms with one of the whores. Sansa was going to boldly interrupt and have Bronn escort her home, but it seemed he was tied up.

A woman was bent on her knees, stroking and working Bronn's cock. Sansa wouldn't dare walk-in on the two of them in that situation, so instead she exited the brothel by herself.

"My lady."

Sansa turned and saw Podrick was still there. "Podrick," Sansa smiled.

"Are you heading back to the castle?"

"Yes"

"I believe it would be wise if I went with you to escort you." and Sansa nodded in agreement.

* * *

Notes - So this more so had to do with character development, with a twist in Sansa's overall feelings. I used Shae to do what she did, mostly because I do believe that she believes she's doing Sansa a favor and at the same time she's helping herself. I don't think Shae is evil, but I think she would be jealous, and being so close to Sansa, she'd probably feel the need to have a conversation like this with her. (But of course for all TV watchers we eventually know what happens.) Anyway, I also included scenes straight from the series, and again twisted it for plot purposes. So hang in there. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

The day started out fairly normal for Lord Tyrion. Sansa had still been distant with him. She joined him for breakfast but refused to eat a single thing on her plate. Nothing looked appetizing to her and he grew concerned and urged her to eat. Eventually tired of sitting there with nothing of importance to say, she excused herself to be alone. When midday came, he spent an hour with Jaime to eat. He had hoped it would be more pleasant. Instead it almost felt like breakfast with Sansa all over again as Jaime sat there not eating a single thing.

"Father heard you were spotted at Littlefinger's brothel." Jaime informed.

"I did not partake, if that's what you want to know."

"So we've heard," Jaime leaned back in his seat, "but you brought Sansa with you?"

Tyrion bit into a sausage and took his time chewing it while Jaime waited patiently for his brother's explanation.

"I advised her not to go. She insisted upon it though, and she seemed quite fascinated at the idea of meeting a Martell."

"What enemy of ours wouldn't be interested in meeting more of our enemies? And a dangerous one at that." Jaime drank his wine, the only thing he seemed to bother with at the table.

"Sansa is not our enemy."

"Ah, yes that's right. She's your wife, of course, that means all is forgiven. And the Martells have pardoned us for disposing of Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon, I'm sure." Jaime gave his younger brother a weary smile.

"Sansa may hate our family, but she's smart. She knows better than to seek revenge within these castle walls."

"And I'm not insinuating that she's plotting against us. I have no ill will for the girl. Do you know why I was able to come back here?" Jaime shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable. "Brienne brought me here in order to exchange my freedom for Arya and Sansa. I swore an oath to Lady Catelyn Stark, but now she's dead, and who knows where Arya is. Probably dead too, but I had every intention to get Sansa out of here."

"I don't believe you."

"I know. How knightly of me. But if it weren't for Lady Catelyn, I probably would have been killed by Lord Karstark. But you're lucky brother, that Catelyn is dead and you still have a wife." His words weren't meant to be cruel. Tyrion knew that.

"Forgive me Jaime but what are you trying to tell me?"

"Sansa is still here and she's still yours. I know you'd deny it, but you care for her, and don't give me that look." Jaime saw how Tyrion was going to be quick with an explanation of denial but Jaime knew better. "There's only one other person I've seen you truly care for. I know you, brother. What I'm getting at is this. Letting her go with you to the brothel was a mistake. If you care about that girl, don't give anyone an excuse to hurt her. "

And Tyrion was quick to change the conversation.

"You're not eating," Tyrion set his wine cup down as he grew frustrated, "why is no one eating? My wife wastes away and my brother starves himself."

"I'm not hungry." Jaime responded. Tyrion looked over his brother's new gilded steel hand.

"You lost a hand, brother. Not a stomach. Now try the boar. Cersei can't get enough of it since one killed Robert for her."

Pod immediately brought the plate of meat over to serve to Jaime, but the Knight waved him away, denying the food.

"We're all so stubborn. How about a toast to the Lannister children? The dwarf, the cripple, and the mother of madness?" Tyrion raised his cup and Jaime looked over at his own cup seeing it only half full, and decided to pour more. He reached over with his left hand to get the jug, but his gold metal one had tipped over his own goblet, and the red vintage spilled everywhere. Podrick was quick to offer his help in cleaning it up, but Jaime sharply responded with a no, and Tyrion dismissed his squire as he watched Jaime's distress grow.

"It's only wine." Tyrion demonstrated as he purposely spilled some of his own. Their conversation went on, and Jaime mentioned that he no longer knew how to fight now that his right hand was gone. And Tyrion urged him to relearn with his left, even offering Bronn as someone who would gladly train Jaime for gold. When their talk began to come to a close, a knock came at the door.

"Come in," Tyrion called, and in came Lancel Lannister.

"The King wishes to see you, Lord Tyrion."

Tyrion finished his wine, and stood up, "Duty calls. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow again?"

Jaime nodded

"I'll make sure not to set a plate out for you," and Tyrion followed Lancel out the door.

* * *

"Nephew, you wanted to see me?" Tyrion entered the throne room, taking notice to how empty it was. The small man also surveyed knights standing guard at every entrance and Tyrion became even more wary.

"Uncle, I am your King, and you will address me as so," the smug boy shifted arrogantly in his iron chair, while his fingers fidgeted almost excitedly on one of the handles. His venomous smile was just as cruel looking as usual, but the boy's overall demeanor was different. He was far too delighted, almost as happy as the day he heard Robb Stark was killed, and Tyrion focused, knowing he wasn't there for any old reason.

"What can I do for you?" Tyrion rejected calling him King, but the boy's mind was too focused on what was coming to correct his Uncle once more.

"I'm calling a trial Uncle, " Joffrey's smile widened more cruelly, and Tyrion immediately went on the defense internally, but kept his composure on the outside.

"A trial? For what?"

"Adultery." Suddenly the doors opened on the far end of the throne room and in came Ser Meryn. Behind him was the Mountain, tall as ever and with Sansa just a few steps ahead of him.

"What is the meaning of this?" Tyrion eyes locked with Joffrey, and the King didn't divulge his information just yet.

"Sansa confess your crime to your husband," Joffrey sneered and waited.

"I have done nothing to offend my husband and know not what I am guilty of."

"You're a whore Sansa," Joffrey spat, "did you know Uncle? Did you know that your wife was spotted at Littlefinger's brothel just a few short days ago?"

Sansa's eyes widened and she glanced over at Tyrion. He gave her a solid look and made a soft gesture of his hand to let her know he had this. But before Tyrion could say a word Joffrey spoke once more.

"Oh wait, you did know," the King stood from his chair and continued, "you know because, you were there too." Joffrey lifted his pointer finger and tried to remember what he'd heard his grandfather say. "My mother told me that grandfather said he'd hang the next whore you were with. I might pay a visit to that place. Maybe I'll hang all the whores in there."

"No crime was committed," Tyrion started, "Sansa and I were welcoming the Prince of Dorne to the capital, and you can question the Prince himself."

"You were welcoming the Prince of Dorne to Kings Landing at a whore house, come now Uncle, you needn't lie."

"You can speak with anyone there-"

"I will ask whom I wish in regards to your innocence," Joffrey shut Tyrion up, and then turned to Ser Meryn, "Ser Meryn are they guilty?"

The man stood straighter at the call of his name and quickly responded with yes. The King then turned to the Mountain and asked the man the same question. He nodded, and that was enough for Joffrey.

"Guilty." Joffrey said firmly.

"If we're going to be charged, I believe Sansa and I deserve the right to a fair trial." Tyrion argued.

"A trial is done however the King so wishes a trial to be done. I don't need to advised on these matters. I was once advised to send Ned Stark to take the Black. Instead I put his head on a spike." Joffrey glimpsed at Sansa who had her head lowered the entire time.

"So now you're going to put our heads on spikes as well for adultery?" Tyrion asked.

"No, that would be too kind," Joffrey's smile fell from his face as Tyrion challenged him. "Ser Meryn restrain my Uncle."

Ser Meryn took Tyrion's hands and bound them with metal cuffs. "The council will not stand for this," Tyrion reasoned.

"No, they won't. But they're not here. Ser Meryn I don't wish to hear another word from my Uncle."

Ser Meryn gladly took a long piece of leather and covered Tyrion's mouth. He secured it tightly in a knot on the back of Tyrion's head, and the trial continued. Joffrey sat himself once more on his throne as he eyed Sansa who became quite silent.

"Sansa, I'm a very merciful King, and I hope you would see that. I could have your hair cut off, and parade you throughout the city, nude. It's a very common punishment for unfaithful wives," finally Joffrey saw Sansa stare up at him, with hate etched all over her face. He also saw Tyrion struggle against Ser Meryn. He loved seeing people react in vain to his words. "The other option is exile, but that's too harsh. I can't send the only woman who has a claim to the North into exile." The King pretended to give much thought to Sansa's punishment. "So as your merciful King, I will have Ser Gregor Clegane show you the proper fuck that you're so desperately seeking"

"No! Please!" Sansa immediately screamed as the Mountain turned her around.

"Uncle, your punishment will be to watch. Maybe you'll be able to learn something from the Mountain."

Tyrion voiced his muffled anger and struggled against Ser Meryn. The Mountain wasted no time, pushing the girl down against the cold stone floor, and began hiking her dress skirts up. And Sansa fought back with abandon, clawing and kicking and screaming.

"Mountain, shut her up!" Joffrey yelled, and his knight obliged. A large hand pressed against her long throat and her blood curdling cries were silenced, as she now struggled against his powerful grip.

Tyrion fought hard against the chains that bound him, and his strength took Ser Meryn by surprise. He then turned towards Ser Meryn and with all the force he could gather, he ran into the larger man, throwing him off his footing and to the ground. He was going to attack further, but another guard came from behind and brutally hit the back of Tyrion's head with force. Sparks erupted in his eyes and then he was out.

* * *

Slowly Tyrion came to, and the first thing his ears picked up on was his father's voice.

"You should believe yourself fortunate, Sansa. Not many can come between a King and his commands."

"You don't have to pretend that you care." Sansa muttered. Tyrion opened his eyes looking around the room they were in. It was their bed chambers, and he was laying on the long chaise. Out of the corner of his eyes he spotted Sansa and Tywin sitting at the small round table. Instead of getting up in haste, Tyrion stilled and kept listening to the two of them.

Tywin sat straighter and decided to be frank with the girl before him, "You're correct. Your safety, nor your well-being concern me in the slightest. I do what I have to, to further my family. Having the Mountain rape you doesn't further my family. And I'd rather not sully the name with the possibility of a bastard. I'm well aware Tyrion is not ideal, but he's a Lannister nonetheless, and all I am concerned about is your blood, your name, and your inheritance to Winterfell." Tywin then stood as Sansa remained silent. "I believe you know as well I do that the King will not tire of you. Now that you're no longer his it's my understanding that he's become even more taken with you, and I certainly won't always be there to stop him."

"And what would you have me do?" Sansa asked with bitterness in her voice.

"Sansa, you may have come to court as a foolish young girl, but I hope you would have gained insight by now. War doesn't favor honorable men who rebel for some greater good, I'm sure you know this. You know what you must do to leave Kings Landing. So do it." Tywin exited the room and Sansa felt like she could breath again.

"Don't," Tyrion voiced. Sansa looked over to him as he began to sit up on the chaise. He grimaced at the pain that still throbbed near the base of his head. "Don't listen to him."

"I never do listen to you Lannisters," Sansa remained seated.

"What happened?" Tyrion was unsure if he wanted to hear, but he had to know.

"Ser Boros hit you on the back of the head with the handle of his sword. The Mountain continued trying to push himself onto me. But then in came your father, taking long strides towards the King, with a blond haired man at his side. The blond man who manages Littlefinger's brothel. He testified to Joffrey that we were there simply to welcome Prince Oberyn, and that we requested no men or women and that no business transpired between us. Your father said that if that wasn't enough he could get others to recount the events that happened as well. And now we're here. Your father told me that from the moment he heard about us being seen at the brothel, he knew Joffrey would never let an opportunity like that pass. Jaime notified your father once you were called by Lancel to see Joffrey."

"I'm sorry that you were subjected to that," Tyrion said.

"I won't give you what your family wants," Sansa was quick to change the subject.

"And I don't expect you to," Tyrion began, "I'm just a bit confused however, over your sudden change of heart."

"Your father told me that I was no fool anymore. And he's right. Everyday spent at court is another day of learning. Learning that everyone here is a liar, working towards one goal. To be the most powerful person in the room. Isn't that what you told me?" Sansa gave a light laugh at her foolishness, "I used to think how miserable you must have been, having Joffrey torment you. I even related myself to you. But now I know better. You and I are not in the same position. You love it here at court don't you?"

"It's a complicated feeling between love and hate, but yes. Someone needs to outthink all these people here. My sister, father and nephew included." Tyrion admitted.

"And how many more trials will you risk your neck for before you realize you're just as foolish as the rest of them?"

"What is this really about Sansa?"

"If you cared about me, you would have found a way to leave. You didn't listen to me about going to Essos, and here we are. Still, trying to outwit a King who doesn't need wits to punish us for whatever we do."

"Because running away is not how you play this game,"

"I did not agree to this game in the first place!" Sansa's voice became loud and Tyrion stood from the chaise.

"No Sansa, you did. From the moment you laid eyes on Joffrey, your mind was made."

"I was young and knew no better,"

"And the game favors no one and chokes out the weak. Sansa, you've not only become wiser but stronger."

"But if this keeps on, it is only a matter of time before I'm choked out, because I will not do what is expected of me. I will not play along."

Sansa excused herself without a word and got ready for bed. She imagined tonight would be a sleepless one. Another night spent staring at the canopy. She had larger problems to deal with than playing some stupid game. Problems that needed to be figured out soon before she would be unable to conceal them.

Tyrion walked out to the balcony to breath some fresh air. He'd come so very close to reminding Sansa that her father refused to play the game as well. And where was he? Rotting. Tyrion knew how to pick his battles, and reminding her of that would have been unnecessary, and cruel. And he'd spent the better half of the last two years proving he was anything but cruel.

At the same time, Sansa also spoke truth. How much longer could Tyrion keep playing along before his time was up? Everyone's days were numbered at court.

* * *

By morning the two ate breakfast in the Gardens, and there was silence amongst them. Sansa didn't want to speak, and in fact she had wanted to eat alone but she was ever the dutiful wife.

"Does something trouble you my Lady?" Tyrion asked.

"No I'm simply weary. I couldn't sleep last night and the events of yesterday still have me overwhelmed." Sansa explained. She barely picked at her food, just as she had the morning before and it wasn't long before she gave the cue that she was done with breakfast.

"Tomorrow is the Royal Wedding. If you'd like you can retire to our chambers for the day to rest."

"No, I can't," Sansa closed her eyes and breathed. She felt ill for a moment as a wave nausea came over her.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Tyrion became concerned.

"Yes I'm fine." Sansa stood to excuse herself, "I am to meet Lady Margaery today, please excuse me." And off she went cutting off what little conversation they had.

Meeting with Margaery was always pleasant for Sansa. The girl was lively, and had a positive presence all about her. The two walked arm in arm as Margaery excitedly spoke about the wedding.

"And so family titles will be exhausting once Loras marries Cersei, but as for you and I...I will be your niece, and you, my aunt." Margaery laughed, and Sansa didn't find it amusing. Not because it wasn't amusing, but rather she wasn't feeling herself. Margaery continued talking in her sing song voice and Sansa wondered why it was so hot today.

"It's all a mess really, but we will be family. I cannot wait to take you to Highgarden, you will love it."

"I'm sure that I will," Sansa said. The younger girl stared at the blazing sun that was high over their heads. On a day like today, she would never guess that winter was coming.

"My grandmother said she plans to offer an invitation to you and Lord Tyrion to visit. I'm sure the two of you would enjoy the much needed break from court."

"That would be lovely, I can't wait to see the beauty of it." Words just sort of poured out of Sansa's mouth. Typical responses for typical questions. She didn't mean to be so bland. She was usually excited and giddy around Margaery, but the more Sansa focused on that unholy sun, the more she felt as if she were going to drop.

"So how are you and your beloved?"

And Sansa internally groaned. It felt like everyone had an interest in her and Tyrion at court. "I've never been more happy," Sansa gave her a smile and Margaery in turn gave her a light laugh.

"You're the worst liar in all of Westeros, do you know that?"

Sansa's eyes looked away from Margaery. "I need to sit," she anxiously spoke as they approached a stone bench.

"Are you alright?" Margaery quickly sat by her side and pressed the back of her hand against Sansa's forehead. "You're practically feverish."

"I'm fine," Sansa uttered but she clearly spoke too soon. Her eyes rolled up and Margaery saw that she was collapsing.

"Sansa!" Margaery caught the girl before she crumpled to floor and held her against her lap. Margaery looked around and called to the person closest to her. "Bring me a healer!"

* * *

When the news was brought to Tyrion he ceased all his duties for the day to be with Sansa. Upon entering their bed chambers he saw Sansa lying in bed speaking in hushed tones to Shae.

"I'll be fine," Tyrion heard her say, and as soon as Shae spotted him, the woman gathered her skirts.

"She needs to rest," Shae told Tyrion.

"Thank you for looking after her," Tyrion waited for Shae to leave but the handmaiden stayed put.

"You have a visitor, my lady. Should I send him away?"

And Tyrion lifted an eyebrow. He listened to the distant giggle of Sansa who then replied, "Thank you Shae, but it's fine. I believe I'm well enough to receive Tyrion."

Shae stepped to the side to let the man pass.

"Thank you," Tyrion nodded to her as she left the room. When Shae was gone, he approached Sansa.

"I'm sorry Shae can be fierce," Sansa explained.

_More than you know,_ Tyrion thought.

"But she means well," Sansa was worried Shae would get herself in trouble, and so the girl was quick to defend her handmaiden.

"I'm sure she does," Tyrion smiled. "How are you feeling? Did the healer say if you were ill?"

"I'm well. I was simply overwhelmed from the events of yesterday. Mixed with the heat of the day and prancing around with Lady Margaery, I suppose there's only so much stress I can handle." Sansa forced a weak smile. "Not to mention the Royal Wedding is tomorrow, and the breakfast feast."

"Sansa," Tyrion's tone became more serious, "Forgive me for ever being harsh towards you." Tyrion rarely ever was, but he felt the need to somehow cross over this barrier that had suddenly risen against the two of them. Sansa's recent indifference had bothered him, and he wasn't sure how to reconnect with her. "I know you believe that if I truly cared about you, I'd find a way to get you out of King's Landing, and the truth is, I wouldn't know where to begin." In truth, that was an excuse but Sansa let him speak.

Tyrion sat on their bed and looked over to her and Sansa saw the concern that crossed his face. She noticed how he hesitated with the next words, almost as if he were afraid to say them. "Do you care for me Sansa?"

Sansa blinked and her eyes stared at the heavy duvet that sat across her waist. She swallowed wondering just how to answer his question, but the longer she took to reply the more the silence answered for her.

And Tyrion gave her a defeated smirk as he looked away. "It's fine Sansa." And he thought how daft he was to even ask such a question. Sansa wasn't his by her choice, and he needed to remind himself of it.

"I did," her words were soft, and quick, but Tyrion knew he heard right. Sansa wanted to be honest, yet even saying she **did** didn't feel like the complete truth. _I still do_...was the truth. "When we first..." Sansa tried to find the right words. Consummated was too proper, but love was too passionate, and fuck was too vulgar. "When we became intimate, I-" words struggled on her lips. "I felt something, maybe just wishful thinking at the thought of being happy, with a man who would treat me well. I don't know, but I did care for you after that. And the weeks that followed, being with you brought relief from my days here at court. When you gifted me with that book, in that instant I almost thought, that I could..." Sansa fingers clutched the blanket that sat across her stomach, "that maybe I could feel something stronger than fondness towards you," the words came fast from her mouth and she almost couldn't believe she said them. "But now it's different," Sansa added.

"And if I told you that I could feel more for you than mutual fondness, what would you say?"

"You can't."

"And what if I did?"

"You can't, because," Sansa's voice began to shake and she couldn't figure out if it was anxiety, anger or sadness that began to overtake her. "You can't because I can't love you." She dragged in a shuddering breath, and her explanation came out frantically, "You're a Lannister, and even if I'm married to you, I'm still a Stark. Your family has disgraced and torn apart everything I love. Your nephew mocks and savages me. Your sister sits idly by. Your brother, the Knight has no shred of honor, and your father belittles me and moves me around like another piece in his game."

Tyrion took her words in stride and purged his own feelings. The man had grown used to rejection.

"A wolf can never love a lion," Sansa whispered. "When we became intimate, I only did so for my own selfish reasons. I wanted nothing more than to leave this hell. Having your child would have granted me that. So I sacrified my body-"

"Sacrificed? I didn't know it was such a sacrifice for you," Tyrion finally got on the defensive but Sansa was quick to respond.

"You know what I mean," Sansa felt tears sting at her eyes but she blinked them away. " I spent over a month, doing that which I thought was my only option. And for a moment I actually thought I could care about you. I've come back from my childish thinking though, because finally the thought of giving Winterfell over to the Lannisters sickened me most of all."

"I'm sorry my Lady, that you feel that way," Tyrion wanted to apologize. He wanted to tell Sansa that he knew his nephew, his father and his sister were rotten and undeserving of her kindness or anything from her. But no other words came to him other than, "Rest well Sansa, you'll need your spirits high for tomorrow."

* * *

Notes :: Annnddd scene. Haha. This chapter ended up being one of the hardest ones I've written yet. Not sure why, but now that it's done I feel like it's one of the strongest ones. Anyway, reviews inspire me~

Also sorry if you're a shipper that just wants happiness everywhere and good times. I tend to view Sansa and Tyrion as more complex than two people finding a mutual understanding and suddenly blossoming into the happiest couple there ever was. I'm sure it will happen, but bumps in the road make for a more interesting dynamic I think. Thanks for reading. Also, if anyone's interested you can also find me on tumblr at Halalela. ( .com)


	5. Chapter 5

When Sansa opened her eyes she noticed how empty the bed was. For a second she assumed she overslept and quickly sat up in bed. Her eyes focused and she saw how pale the light was outside. A sure sign that she certainly did not oversleep as dawn had barely come. She looked around the room and saw Tyrion still sound asleep on the chaise. She saw the empty flask on the table, and the empty goblet on the floor. Sansa had fallen asleep well before her Lord last night, and it seemed like he spent the rest of his night drinking until he passed out.

Quietly, she slipped out of bed, still wearing her smallclothes and picked up the goblet. She set it on top of the table and then turned to look at her Lord. Last night repeated in her mind and she grimaced at the thoughts. For a moment she wondered what would be if there hadn't been so much tragedy between the Starks and the Lannisters.

Why do I still daydream of such stupid things? Sansa questioned herself. If there was no bad blood between the Lannisters, she knew she would have never been forced to marry Tyrion. Even in different circumstances, different worlds, she still would never be forced to marry him. Her father would have never allowed it. Thus, she would never have dreamed of coming to care for him.

I'm a stupid little girl, with stupid dreams who never learns. It was a mantra. It was what kept her grounded. It kept her from dreaming, from hoping. But still, her imagination stole the briefest of moments and saw a life. One filled with the same warmth and happiness of her childhood. One where she could be free to have and to speak of the feelings she had for the man who slept soundly before her. _Perhaps I could have come to love you? Maybe we could have been happy? And shared a love people would have been envious of?_ And as she slowly closed her eyes the vision faded from her as she exhaled, and the desire dissolved into nothing.

* * *

Breakfast was painful. Sansa first thought it would be a nice break from sitting in the gardens in awkward silence with Tyrion, but when she watched Joffrey take his newly gifted Valyrian sword and slice up Tyrion's wedding gift, the thought of having a silent breakfast with Tyrion sounded like heaven.

Afterwards Sansa wondered if Tyrion would want to talk about the previous night, but instead he seemed far more preoocupied with other matters and excused himself to retire to the their room.

For Tyrion, just having heard the news from Varys that Shae had been found out, he had to get her safely out of Kings Landing. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to find a way to keep her. But there was no other choice. He would get her to leave Kings Landing now and not a moment later. So he sent for her and wondered just how cruel he would have to be to force her to leave. It tore him up inside.

Sansa was called to Margaery's chambers and when she arrived she saw the young Tyrell lady in all her glory. Her dress was splendid, her hair was like a waterfall cascading down her back. She was a queen. _No, she is **the** Queen._ And suddenly a bitterness swept over Sansa. She was glad to be free Joffrey, there was no mistaking that. But Margaery's position. It was meant to be hers. Inwardly she shook her head and pushed the thought aside.

"You're absolutely regal, Your Grace," Sansa beamed, and Margaery thanked her.

"When I am your Queen though, it will not change Sansa. So please, keep calling me Margaery." She took Sansa's hands in her own and when she was close enough, she whispered, "Have you told your husband yet?"

Sansa's eyes darted around the room. Only Margaery's handmaidens were there but she still felt uncomfortable. Sansa hurriedly responded, "not yet. After your wedding I will. Tonight."

"Good. I'm glad you've decided to tell him. And then we'll announce it to the realm in a fortnight." Margaery was absolutely gleaming at her and Sansa gave the most enthusiastic nod of agreement she could muster. "Thank you for seeing me Sansa. I imagine we'll be spending more time together now that we're family."

"Yes of course," Sansa smiled, "We must be off now. The ceremony is soon."

Margaery nodded and Sansa left to reunite with Tyrion. As the two traveled cautiously through the city to the Great Sept of Baelor Sansa took notice to Tyrion. He seemed far more upset than earlier in the day. It almost tempted her to ask him what was wrong, but she had a good feeling it was probably from the talk of the previous night coupled with the destruction of his book earlier by Joffrey. So Sansa let silence sit between them.

The two stood amongst the many Lords and Ladies that had gathered for the Royal Wedding. Sansa watched Margaery's grand enterance. And when the ceremony came to a close she found herself feeling the sting of bitterness again. "We have a new Queen," she said. It caught Tyrion off gaurd as those were the first words she had spoken to him all day.

"Better her than you." Tyrion said as he clapped for the newly married couple.

As the festivities progressed Sansa generally knew what to expect. It'd be far more grand than her own wedding, and Joffrey would most likely have a moment or two of cruelty. And life would resume. She spent most of her time distracted in her own thoughts about the inevitable news that she'd have to tell Tyrion. But things at the wedding went from distasteful to vile to downright chaotic. When Sansa saw the dwarves reenact the War of the Five Kings, that was distasteful. When Joffrey humiliated Tyrion in front of everyone it became vile.

Guilt washed over Sansa as she watched Tyrion become drenched in the King's wine. When Joffrey named her husband as his cupbearer Sansa envisioned herself standing up and slapping the bastard. Oh how she wished she could. Her hate grew more and more for him and she wondered how it was physically possible to hate someone as much as she did. Finally when Joffrey ordered his uncle to pick up his cup, after he himself had kicked it under the table, it was then that Sansa stood. As Tyrion bent under the table he saw Sansa's thin fingers pick up the goblet.

When the girl leaned up she gave Joffrey the briefest of stares, and Tyrion swore that the hate that filled those bright eyes could have struck a man dead in his tracks. She handed the golden cup to Tyrion, but as the two looked at eachother her eyes instantly became much kinder. With just her look she expressed how sorry she was over everything. And for a moment she felt she could read his own expression. One that responded with _it's alright_.

And she trusted Tyrion for that moment.

But fear struck her when she saw him defy Joffrey even more. The young King demanded Tyrion to kneel and the half man simply stood his ground, silent and unwavering.

_Tyrion...please. Please kneel._ Sansa pleaded in her mind. Joffrey would have his head by the end of the night, and Sansa wasn't sure if she could deal with another loss. Not now. Not in the position she was in. After Tyrion there was no one left. No one that would be there for her.

"I said...KNEEL!" The King yelled.

"Look the pie!" Margeary's chipper voice interrupted the scene and Sansa felt she was able to breathe again. She made a mental note to thank Margaery later.

Once Joffrey was distracted with the pie, Tyrion made his way back to his seat and Sansa was quick to ask, "can we leave now?"

"Lets find out." The two began to walk away, but Joffrey hadn't finished with his Uncle just yet.

"Uncle! Where are you going? You're my cupbearer remember?"

"I thought I might change out of these wet clothes Your Grace."

"No no no. No you're perfect the way you are. Serve me my wine."

It was going to be a long evening for Lord Tyrion, but hopefully he could still get them to leave early. Once he'd handed the King the cup, he asked for permission to leave.

"If it please Your Grace, Lady Sansa is very tired-"

"No." Joffrey was quick and strong with his response, and Tyrion silenced himself. The King gave a small cough, and then continued, "No, you'll wait here..." another cough interrupted him, but this time he couldn't shake it.

"Your Grace," Tyrion took a few steps forward.

"It's nothing," the boy finally choked out. But suddenly he found himself not being able to breathe. He turned to Margaery and a look of sheer terror had crossed his face as a shaky hand gripped his throat.

"He's choking!" Margaery cried. Cersei immediately pushed her chair back in alarm, and Jaime began to make his way to his King, and that was when the evening became chaotic. Chatter erupted amongst all the lords and ladies. Cersei ran to her son as he collapsed, and heaved on the floor. It all almost felt surreal as Sansa gazed upon the horror. Blood began to seep from Joffrey's nose, and Sansa almost wondered if the gods had heard her prayers.

"Come with me, now." The voice startled Sansa and she looked to see Ser Dontos at her side. The man who had gifted her with the necklace she wore now. "If you want to live we have to leave."

"What?" Now Sansa's mind was spinning and her eyes searched for Tyrion. "But Tyrion...I..." the chaos was too distracting for her to even focus.

"He's as good as dead m'lady." The fool urged but Sansa stilled. She saw Tyrion pick up Joffrey's chalice and she frowned. What was he doing? She looked back over to Joffrey as the King began to raise his hand and point in the direction of her husband. Her heart sank, and she knew what would be coming. Not just for her husband but also for her.

"We have to leave," Dontos repeated gripping Sansa's shoulders and pulling her away. Sansa finally gave in and willingly began to run with the man. Her heart pounded hard as she heard Cersei scream, "Where is Sansa!"

"You must run faster," Ser Dontos' voice had a string of panic to it, and Sansa immediately stopped. She pulled off her heeled slippers as fast as she could manage and the two kept going, running through the pebbled road. Ser Dontos held Lady Sansa's hand the entire time leading her as fast as he could.

"Wh-where are we going?" Sansa was almost out of breath as she asked and Dontos quickly replied,

"M'lady there isn't time to waste talking. Please trust me."

As they rounded a corner Dontos spotted a blue cloak drawn atop a cart and without a moments hesitation he grasped the cloth and handed it to Sansa. "Cover yourself m'lady. Many recognize you."

Sansa nodded and brought the hood of the cloak up around her hair. The two kept going and Sansa began to feel safe when she saw how far away from the Castle they were. Each step farther was a blessing.

"In the name of King halt!"

And in that moment Sansa's heart sank and an icy terror crawled up her belly. She looked back and saw two Gold Cloaks pursuing them, one with a loaded crossbow. Sansa and Dontos kept running but now Dontos' hand slipped from hers. The entire time he led her, but now he was far more concerned for his own life. As the two ran through an alleyway Sansa spotted another Gold Cloak at the end. The girl turned around but there was no running back. The two other Gold Cloaks were already advancing on them on the other side. Unlike Sansa though, Ser Dontos barreled towards the single guard, but he stood no chance as the Gold Cloak hoisted his crossbow up and fired an arrow right through the mans skull.

Sansa screamed and the knight reloaded for precaution. The other two took hold of Sansa and she fought back, swinging her fist at one of the knights and actually hitting him across the face. Another was quick to restrain her and finally after knowing that there was no escaping this, she gave in. Her eyes looked up at the castle as they escorted her through the streets. Back to castle she would go. To her prison. True fear rooted itself deep within her. It almost paralyzed her as her mind came to the one singular truth. _I will die here._

* * *

Two days had passed and Tyrion rubbed the ache that formed in the base of his neck. The hay in the holding cell provided no cushion so Tyrion slept with his back on one of the supporting beams. Light flooded in through one small opening and he wondered what hour it was.

The opening clicks of the door then caught his attention and he saw Podrick his squire enter the cell. Tyrion was actually glad to see him and his squire revealed the items he was able to sneak into the cell. The small man was ever grateful and the two spoke of what was to come.

"I'm to get a list of names, m'lord. Anyone who might testify on your behalf." Podrick said as he took a seat on the single stool in the cell.

"Oh I can call my own witnesses? How generous of them. Very well then, my wife, Sansa," Tyrion was about to continue but he stopped when he saw Pod's eyes look to the ground in sorrow. Tyrion's pulse quickened and his jaw locked momentarily. He was almost afraid to ask. "Pod what happened? What happened to my wife?"

Podrick gave Tyrion a defeated look. "Lady Sansa is being questioned by the Queen and the Hand."

"What?"

Podrick heard the panic in Tyrion's voice. "She was caught trying to escape the city. Ser Dontos, the King's fool was helping her flee, but men of the City Watch were able to capture them. One ended up killing Ser Dontos. The Queen was outraged and sentenced the Gold Cloak who killed him, to death. Ser Dontos could have proven to be a valuable asset in divulging answers under torture."

Tyrion stood almost feeling sick. "And instead they're torturing my wife."

"You don't...think she..." Podrick wondered is she were guilty but Tyrion was quick to defend Sansa.

"No one had more cause to kill Joffrey than Sansa but my wife is no assassin. Whoever killed the King wanted me to lose my head for it. And my wife's failed escape makes me seem that much more guilty."

"Then Lady Sansa know nothing? If she did she would have told them by now I'm sure." Podrick held a deep sadness over the situation.

"I do not believe she knows anything. She would never risk something like this."

And Tyrion found himself repeating this to Jaime a week later when he came around.

"Cersei will kill her. She's already tortured her. But the girl knows nothing. Father however has decided to keep her alive. Cersei as you can imagine is furious, she's already asked me to kill you both." Jaime reported.

Tyrion sat across from his brother on the ground and folded his arms against his chest. "So, should I turn around and close my eyes?"

Jaime felt a sting of insult from his brother, "depends, did you do it?"

Tyrion smiled, "The Kingslayer brothers. You like it?" Tyrion shrugged when Jaime gave no answer, "I like it."

Jaime failed to find any humor in his brother's sarcasm and finally Tyrion asked, "Are you really asking if Sansa and I killed your son?"

"Are you really asking if I'd kill my brother?"

Tyrion knew Jaime loved him in very much the way a brother probably should. There were times where Tyrion would question it, but truly out of all the others in his family Jaime was best to him.

"How can I help you?" Jaime finally asked.

"I need you to set Sansa free, and get her far away from Kings Landing."

"And risk my life? She's the only person in all of Kings Landing who had a reason to kill Joffrey."

"And yet it wasn't her who killed the King."

Jaime studied the look on Tyrion's face. It bothered Jaime how much Tyrion had grown to care for Sansa. It reminded him of Tysha all those years ago.

"You care so much for her," Jaime finally came out with it.

"Of course I care about her. She is my wife, and I took an oath to protect her." Tyrion felt at a loss. "There's nothing I can do here for her. I'm stuck in this cell, while she is beaten, and tortured and gods know what else. You need to get to her, Jaime. You need to figure something out before Cersei finds some other cutthroat to handle her dirty work."

"You know I can't," Jaime looked at Tyrion with remorse, but Tyrion didn't buy into it. He dropped his head back against the wooden post and felt a wave of frustration come over him.

"Then there's really nothing else to say."

"What do you want me to do? Kill the guards? Sneak her out of the city in the back of a cart?" Jaime defended himself, "Im the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

Tyrion threw his hands up in protest, "Oh sorry, I'd forgotten. I'd hate for you to do something inappropriate."

"Inappropriate? You and Sansa are accused of killing the King. Freeing either of you is treason."

"Except we didn't do it!"

"Wh-which is why we're having a trial for you."

"And what of Sansa? Does she get a trial as well?"

"Sansa's entire family are traitor's to the realm. Even if she received a trial, it wouldn't be a real one. Father might say a few words of her treason before ultimately having the only say in sentencing her to death."

Tyrion shook his head, "No, I need you to do something, anything. Days before the Royal Wedding you told me you swore an oath to Lady Catelyn," Tyrion's voice had a tone of power behind it as he guilted his older brother. "Catelyn may be dead, but her daughter is still alive. Tell me Jaime, do you plan on keeping your oath? Or will you be standing there next to father as Ser Ilyn Payne drops his sword on a young innocent girl's neck?"

"Careful now, I'm the last friend you've got here in Kings Landing." Jaime didn't take too kindly to being questioned on his oaths. Especially when he was known for breaking the ultimate oath and killing his King. Jaime pulled himself off the dirty floor and quickly added, "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Notes:: Took a while longer for this chapter to come. Had a few more events that needed to be done this week, leaving less time to update. Thankyou all SO MUCH for reviewing and favoriting and following! It means so much to me. You guys are awesome. I only hope I can continue to make this an enjoyable fic for everyone.


	6. Chapter 6

A guard came and opened the cell door. Tyrion was roused from his sleep and when he sat up, he saw the guard roughly throw Sansa into the cell. The girl crumpled to her knees. Her hair was a mess and her dress was torn at the hem up to her thigh. He saw how dirtied she was and he stood quickly. "Sansa," Tyrion said her name in shock as he saw her. He made his way over to her and kneeled by her side. Her long hair shielded her face from him, but he pushed the red strands back and looked at her pale face.

She had a cut on her lip, and a nasty bruise blemished her cheek. Her eyes were puffy and red and he saw the bruises that littered her light skin. His eyes traveled downward, and looked at the deep purplish-red bruises on her thumb nails. He knew then one of their methods of torture. Cersei must have wanted to crush her fingers one by one. They seemed to have only done her thumbs. The pain must have been unbearable. She would heal. It would take weeks, but eventually she would heal.

"What happened?" Tyrion asked.

Sansa slowly looked at him, and he stared back into cold dead eyes.

"They asked me where you got the poison. I didn't know. They asked me if I had planned this all. I knew nothing about it. They wanted to know where Ser Dontos was taking me. I had no idea. They weren't happy, and I came close to lying to make it stop. I almost couldn't bear it." She looked at her thumbnails and continued, "but there was no point in lying. If I did know the truth, and told them, they would have executed me right there. So what was the point in telling them a lie?" Tears stung her worn and puffy eyes and slid down her cheeks but she kept a still and emotionless expression on her face and pressed on. "The Queen wanted to hand me over to the guards. She instructed them all to do whatever they wanted with me and that when they were done, to slit my throat. 'Cut it right to the bone' she said." Sansa knew Cersei meant to inflict emotional pain as the rumor went that Sansa's own mother's throat was cut so deep, the bone could be seen.

"And what did you say to keep it from happening?"

"I told them that I was with child," Sansa blinked as more tears fell, "Cersei didn't believe me nor care. She felt even stronger that I should be killed. But your father, Tywin felt differently. He pardoned me from my fate, and said that my punishment would be decided in a fortnight. Your brother Jaime suggested I share a cell with you, telling Cersei that if you saw how much of a mess I was, it would bother you. Cersei sent me here so you could see what they had done to me.

"Sansa, I'm sorry." Anger coiled out from his core. He swore he had enough anger built within him to kill Cersei now if he could, but Tyrion felt more trapped than ever. With Cersei knowing how much he cared about Sansa he wondered what else she would do to the girl. Jaime's gesture of trying to help by putting her in his cell didn't really help at all.

However he was proud that Sansa was able to find a way out of their grips for a while with a clever lie. "You've bought yourself time, but they'll decide a far worse fate now when they find out you're lying." Tyrion lifted her chin with his index finger and Sansa looked up at him.

"I'm not lying," Sansa whispered, her voice almost leaving her.

"What?" Tyrion wasn't sure if he heard her correctly. Her voice was so soft.

"The day before the wedding, when I fainted, a maester confirmed to me that I was with child. They had asked me when the last time I bled was and I told them it had been well over eight weeks. They took notice to the swell of my bosom and the tenderness and said it was common signs. I knew I was with child well before they did. The mornings I spent with you, not eating. I didn't feel well, and I knew then, but I was in denial. I told the maester to tell no one, and I him them know that I would notify you first before announcing it to the realm. I meant to tell you after the Wedding, but..."

"Sansa, we have to get you out of here." Tyrion took one of Sansa's hands and felt how cold they were to the touch, "I will get you out of Kings Landing. I promise you."

"It's too late. You took too long to come to that decision." Sansa still carried a stone look on her but she couldn't bear to look at Tyrion.

"Sansa," was all Tyrion could breath. He had words built up, a grand speech. All his feelings, all his regrets, all his confessions and apologies. It all struggled on his tongue, and all he could manage was, "Sansa, I..." and nothing came after, because nothing he could say would stop the agony that consumed her.

"Tyrion," Sansa slipped her hand away from him, and gathered her skirts, "I'm weary my lord and wish to be left alone." She stood, slowly summoning whatever strength she could and walked to a far corner of the cell where the moons light spilled in. Tyrion watched her look out through the small opening. He saw how the white light glowed on her. He saw how her eyes looked out that window. He wondered if she still dreamt or hoped. He wondered if she would ever let herself feel safe again. He felt an aching sickness within him. He wished he could do more for Sansa. But his family had taken her, abused her, stripped her of her agency, married her to him, the half man. The Imp. And he damned her with a Lannister in her very womb.

But Tyrion vowed to get her out. His sister couldn't keep doing this to her. His father would pay for the shame he'd bestowed upon Sansa. Tyrion didn't know how just yet, but he wouldn't see another moment of her suffering. Lannister's were clever, smart, and he, Tyrion was the most cunning. Or so he believed. He'd get her out of this. One way or another.

Sansa curled up, and wrapped her long arms around her knees as she leaned her body against the cold stone on her left.

And Tyrion respected her wishes to be left alone for the rest of the night.

* * *

Days dragged on, feeling like an eternity. And Sansa stuck to her side while Tyrion slumped against one of the posts. Every so often he'd glance at her, but she paid him no attention as she only focused on that small opening. The sunlight glittered across her bruised skin and every moment he looked at her, he wanted to speak to her. But he had nothing of importance to say. Early every morning a guard would bring them a jug of water and bread. It would probably be the only thing they'd have all day.

And everyday Tyrion would take that roll and the jug and bring it over to Sansa.

She'd decline, and it worried him. He knew going days without food was something the body could tolerate, but days without water? No, she needed something.

"I know you don't want to talk, but you must drink, and eat something." Tyrion reasoned with her and handed her the roll. She gently pushed the offer away from her and Tyrion sighed. "Then you must at least drink."

Sansa turned to him and he took in the sight of her chapped lips. She steadily took the jug and lifted it to her lips and drank. He offered her the bread once more, and she delicately took it from him. Her thin fingers pulled a small piece off and she began to chew it. And that was the only interaction they would have almost everyday after. He'd try to humor her, tried to say something to get her to react, but no smile came, and no words left her lips.

On the day before the trial Jaime visited once more with two guards. "Father has ordered for you to be washed and cleaned for tomorrow's trial." Jaime spoke to Tyrion.

"And Sansa?" Tyrion asked.

"Sansa won't be at your trial, so she won't need to be bathed," Jaime started, "but, I don't believe there's any harm with your wife joining you." These were the only ways that Jaime knew how to tell Tyrion that he was with him, and not against him. And Tyrion was appreciative of them, but he hoped Jaime could do more.

Tyrion and Sansa were escorted in shackles to their destination, and when they reached it Sansa saw that the washroom was not one meant for prisoners. It was another small gesture from Jaime. He took off the shackles on their wrists and handed them to the gaurds.

"The guards will be standing just outside the door." Jaime mentioned, almost as if to remind Tyrion to not try to concoct some escape plan, but Tyrion knew better, for now. Jaime exited the washroom and the two were left alone.

"I imagine Jaime will be receiving a long talk with my sister about this." Tyrion said after Jaime left the room. There was only one door that allowed for entry and when the two were left alone inside the bathing room, he could see the guards helmets through the small opening in the door.

"Cersei might not find out." Sansa mentioned.

Tyrion smirked. "Cersei has eyes and ears everywhere. Make no mistake. One of those guards outside the bathing room will report back to her. If Cersei had her way she would have dragged my reeking filthy body through the mud and then presented me to the court that way for trial." Tyrion explained. He was grateful though. So incredibly grateful to his brother. The water was even hot and it was more than what Tyrion could have asked for as a prisoner. The small man pulled off his gauzy undershirt and began to unlace his slacks, and kick off his boots. Sansa stared at him and how boldly he removed all his clothing. He stepped into the water and gave a sigh of contentment.

When he noticed she hadn't come in just yet, Tyrion turned and looked up at her. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes," she lied.

"You're acting as if you've never seen me in the nude before." Tyrion said. But that wasn't the reason Sansa was hesitant.

"With these bruises...I'm unsightly." She whispered. She bent down on her knees and let her fingertips brush against the warmth of the water.

Tyrion felt shamed for not thinking of his wife's comfort. He stepped out of the pool and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Forgive me, my lady." His voice was low. "Your body will heal. There is nothing about you that will ever be unsightly to me." Sansa looked up at him and saw how close his face was to hers. She pressed her forehead against his and took a deep breath.

"Can you help me with this dress?" Sansa turned and Tyrion saw the lacing in the back. He pulled the strings loose and the dress fell away from her. She pushed it off slowly, wincing where her bruises were. Once she was out of her clothing, Tyrion looked at her body. She had lost weight since the last time he'd seen her bare. He tried not to focus on that though. His face remained without expression. He took her hand in his and led her into the bath, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, he saw her smile again. The water enveloped her cold body and she felt the warmth all throughout. It was bliss.

She sunk towards the middle and submerged completely within. When she came back up, she stood and Tyrion saw how the water only came up to her hips. And then he saw how her stomach was swollen. It wasn't large, but it was a small valley that rested between those hips and dipped in to meet her pubis. It was a subtle difference, but he knew Sansa's body by now, and while she'd always been fleshy around her waist and hips, he knew this was different.

"How far along did the Maester say you were?" Tyrion asked. Sansa looked down her belly and placed a palm on herself.

"When I saw him I had already missed two moonsblood at the time, so two months had passed. The third also passed a day ago." Sansa rubbed her palm over the small valley and was in awe of seeing the meager beginnings of a life inside of her.

"Are you afraid?" Tyrion asked.

"Terrified..." she answered in truth. Child carrying and birthing were the most difficult hardships on a woman. And Sansa was well aware that women often died because of it. "Your mother passed away in child birth didn't she?" Tyrion sat on one of steps of the bath and even though he heard her he stayed silent for a bit. Sansa quickly shook her head feeling guilty for speaking of something so horrible, "I didn't mean to bring up such an awful thing." Sansa didn't know any woman personally who had died in childbirth. Her mother successfully bore her father five northern children, all healthy.

"No it's quite alright Sansa. My mother did die giving birth to me. Some believe it was because I was a dwarf. They said I had a head twice the size of my body. That I tore her open, and she never stopped bleeding."

Sansa's hands held her sides and her arms protectively covered her belly. Tyrion's words both saddened and frightened her. If she did give birth to a dwarf like Tyrion, would she live? Surely there were many women out there who lived birthing a dwarf. Though she didn't know any dwarf besides Tyrion, or any mothers who birthed a dwarf personally.

"I'm sorry you never knew her." Sansa pulled her long hair to one side and braided it. "Do..." Sansa paused wondering if her question would be too dark, but she couldn't help herself, "do you think I might die?" Sansa asked morbidly.

"No." Tyrion was quick to answer. He surely didn't know, but he wanted to instill confidence in her. Dwelling on whispers of the unknown did nothing but mentally destroy people.

"Thank you Tyrion, for your kind lie." Sansa gave him a cheeky smile, and he hoped he could continue to make her feel something. Anything other than the grief and pain she'd had for so long.

"I mean it. Many women have difficulties with childbirth. But you, I don't believe you will. If you're anything like your mother, which I know you are, you'll be alright." Tyrion meant what he said now and Sansa's faint smile grew.

The young lady looked over at one of the edges of the bath and picked up a small rag that had been laid out for them. She began rubbing off the dirt on her and when she had finished with her arms she struggled with her shoulders and back.

"Sansa let me help you," Tyrion offered and she went over to him and sat on the lowest step. He took the rag, wrung it out and softly placed it against her back. He moved his hand in circular motions and watched the grime slide away from her pale skin. In that moment being there in that washroom made her forget that they were prisoners. She pushed the guards that stood just outside the doorway far away in her mind. Her eyes closed and she let all her muscles relax. When he finished washing her back, he set the rag aside and Sansa let herself recline against Tyrion. Tyrion was surprised as the back of her head rested on his chest near his right shoulder. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her and his thumb rubbed against her arm tenderly.

"How long do you think they'll let us stay in here?" Sansa's sweet voice asked.

"I don't know."

"I don't want to leave this bath." Sansa voiced.

Tyrion held her tighter and kissed her temple. Time ticked on slowly and at first the two of them spoke of the trial and what was to come. Tyrion mentioned the idea of a trial by combat for him, and Sansa immediately forbade it. "You can't risk it," she said, and Tyrion said if he were able to speak with Bronn he surely would have. But Bronn himself was under investigation too and wouldn't be allowed to see Tyrion. At least not yet. Cersei made sure of that. After, Sansa wanted to speak of something else. Anything else.

"If we make it out of here alive, what would we do then?"

"Leave." Tyrion's voice had never sounded more serious. Sansa turned her head to the side and looked at him.

"Do you mean it?" Her fingertips delicately touched his chin urging him to look at her.

"I swear it." Tyrion began, " I don't know where we'd go, but we won't stay here."

Sansa's fingertips lingered under his chin. A moment passed and slowly she brought her lips close against his. The kiss was light, and quick but Tyrion didn't mind. In fact he loved it even more than any kiss she'd ever given him because after, her lips formed into another smile, and then he saw something he hadn't seen for a while. A spark. A genuine one and Tyrion could have thanked all the gods right then as he saw that spark brighten her eyes. He'd thought it had left her, but no, Sansa was stronger than what she seemed, and he wondered if even she knew it herself.

And they sat there until the steam dissipated and the water turned cold.


	7. Chapter 7

By nightfall Sansa and Tyrion seemed closer. The fresh clothes was a nice change. Tyrion wore an undergarment shirt, and ordinary slacks. Sansa had been clothed with a dress that was similar to what handmaidens wore around court.

Jaime was able to get them more food, and finally Sansa was eating and drinking without Tyrion's suggestion. The two sat on the floor opposite eachother. Sansa hugged her knees to her chest, while Tyrion sat his back against one of the posts.

"I should have stayed at Castle Black longer." Tyrion mentioned.

"Stayed at Castle Black?" Sansa asked. She pulled her long red hair to one side, and combed through it with her fingers.

"Before I came to Kings Landing, I visited the Nights Watch. I went up with your bastard brother Jon Snow. And ever since I left that wall, my life has been in danger more times than I can count. I was captured by the Eyrie and put on trial. After I won back my freedom through a trial by combat my father had me fight in the Battle of Green Fork, putting me in the vangaurd. After his disappointment over the fact that I was still alive, he sent me to Kings Landing to bring Joffrey to heel, as if he could have been an easily trained dog. But I did a fine job as acting hand of the King. At least I assumed I did, at first." Tyrion bent one of his legs up and rested his elbow on his kneecap. "This scar. Do you know the story?"

"You fought valiantly against Stannis' men, and one of his soldiers cut clear across your face. A mark that you'll forever have but one that shows your courage." The fire from the torch that blazed above them was the only illumination in the room and its light flickered and danced across Sansa's beautiful face. He'd never heard anyone say he had courage. Courage was a characteristic often reserved for a knight, and Tyrion knew full well that he was no such thing.

"Well, I'm sorry to take that wonderful story away, but it wasn't all that glorious. The man who struck me was one who fought for Kings Landing. He came at me, knowing full well who I was, and he brought down his sword, and scarred my face. When he was about to finish the job, Podrick, my squire, saved my life. Clearly someone wanted me dead on the field that night. Someone here at Kings Landing." Tyrion and Sansa knew full well that, that person was Cersei. Tyrion's eyes were cast down as he mulled over his own thoughts. A smile came to his face as he opened his mouth once more. "I thought I was smarter than everyone here. Smarter than Varys, Littlefinger, Pycelle and my sister. The whole lot of them were all fools...only they're not the ones rotting in this cell are they? No. I'm as dead as..." He stopped himself knowing he'd gone too far. He was going to say Ned Stark, and he hoped Sansa hadn't realized it.

"You're not dead yet," Sansa reminded him, "though I don't believe you're that different from my father. I've heard my father died because of his honor. That was his downfall. I know you believe yourself to be a man without honor. I've heard you say it once before. But it's not true. You do have honor. It's your own honor though. Different from my father. But from my understanding, no sort of honor has a place within these walls. You've already found that out." Sansa saw how intently Tyrion listened to her and she knew he waited for her to continue. "I don't believe it's any coincidence that you're finding yourself in the same position that my father was in at the end of his time here at Kings Landing." And it was true. Tyrion was different in personality, but when it came down to it, he came to Kings Landing to deliver his own brand of justice.

"So then I wasn't any better at the game than your own father?' Tyrion asked.

"Forgive me, but no, I don't believe you were." Sansa's voice became quieted as she answered, but Tyrion wasn't offended. Instead he thought about her words, and everything she said.

"When did my wife become so insightful?" Tyrion smiled, and Sansa gave him a dry sarcastic look.

"Sometimes being quiet and observing your so called game has it's advantages." Sansa explained.

Tyrion wanted to continue discussing what other opinions she had, but their conversation was cut short. Two guards entered the cell and instructed Sansa to come with them. Sansa briefly looked at Tyrion before following the two out.

"Who has summoned her?" Tyrion asked, but the guards ignored him, and he watched Sansa leave.

* * *

It wasn't long before Sansa realized where they were headed. Only Tywin Lannister resided in the Tower of the Hand. When they reached the meeting quarters she saw Tywin facing the fire of one of the large hearths. He seemed deep in thought, but the sounds of metal clinking from the guards drew him from his mind.

"Sit," Tywin urged as he turned to see Sansa.

Sansa looked out of the corner of her eye and saw Jaime to the far side of the room. She stepped towards the long table and she saw that Tywin had already had a chair pushed out for her right next to his. She sat with her hands in her lap, and wondered what he wanted with her.

"Do you want to live?" Tywin asked sternly. Sansa's eyebrows knit in confusion at first.

"Yes," her voice came out small.

"Speak clearly girl, we're talking about your life."

Sansa cleared her throat and gave him a strong yes.

"Good, tomorrow your husband will stand trial. Make no mistake. He will be found guilty for the murder of King Joffrey. When I announce that your husband stands accused of killing the king, you will explain in detail all that your husband did. That he threatened your very life and the life of your unborn child if you didn't agree to his plan. You will tell the court that you had no willing part in any of it, and that every step of the way was planned by Tyrion. You will confess that during all the chaos at the wedding, you promised Ser Dontos payment if he took you to safety since you knew that your very life would be in danger of a crime you did not commit. Do this Sansa and your life will be spared. I even extend the offer of protection for you after the trial. Gods know there are some who will still wish you dead after all this."

"Like your daughter?" Sansa was quick with her words and she had no concern over the fact that she referred to the Queen regent as anything but the Queen, and Tywin looked at her under his heavy lidded eyes. A moment of thick silence passed, and Sansa swallowed hard and became uncomfortable, but she never let any of her fear show.

"Yes, like my daughter." He finally responded.

"And if I refuse?"

"Then may the gods have mercy on your soul Sansa, because without my protection no force in the heavens or all of Westeros will keep Cersei from exacting vengeance on you in the most abhorrent way." Tywin sat back in his chair, the creaking sounds from it made Sansa squirm inside. "So will you testify?"

"I don't believe I have much of a choice." Sansa responded.

"Good, Jaime will escort you to your chambers."

"My chambers?"

"Yes. If you're going to confess tomorrow, I'd rather you be well rested. Temporary handmaidens will arrive in the morning to dress and ready you."

Sansa knew what he was doing. He wanted to separate her and Tyrion. He wanted to make sure Tyrion felt alone in all of this. Sansa did as she was bid and left the room with Jaime.

* * *

"Did you know he would ask this of me?' Sansa and Jaime traveled alone throughout the halls of the kingdom. Neither were in a rush to her new quarters.

"No..." Jaime answered truthfully, and then asked a question of his own, "will you testify against my brother?"

"You heard me before. I wasn't given much of a choice was I?" Sansa sounded spiteful, but in truth she wouldn't do what Tywin wanted. Jaime halted and placed his hands on Sansa's shoulders. They were firm on her and Sansa looked up at Jaime.

"You won't." Jaime's words sounded more like a threat than anything else.

"I wont?" Sansa challenged him, "I'm surprised you haven't done so yourself."

"He's my brother." Jaime said, as if Sansa needed reminding.

"And yet he's still in that cell."

"He still has a chance to get his way out of this if you two play your hand right."

"Tyrion is my husband. Your father may think he's able to bribe people, but I will not fall for some wicked deal. Tyrion and I will either get out of this together, or not at all." Sansa pulled herself away from Jaime's grip and kept walking.

Jaime was relieved to hear her say that. He felt a measure of appreciation over how Sansa seemed to care for Tyrion as well. In this back of his mind though, Jaime knew Tyrion would have wanted Sansa to do as she was told if it meant her survival.

"If Tyrion knew you'd have a chance to live, he'd tell you to do it. To do whatever you had to. Even if it meant condemning him."

The two finally reached the door of Sansa's new bedchambers and Jaime opened it for her. The room was very small, containing only a bed, and a night table. Not one window was located on any of it's walls, and Sansa knew Tywin chose this room for that reason.

"Thank you lord Jaime, but me testifying against my husband will never grant me protection from your sister." Sansa stepped into the small quarters and took a deep breath.

"You're right. My sister will find a way to get rid of you." Jaime admitted, "it may take her longer with my father in the way, but eventually she will have an opportunity."

"Can you do one thing for me lord Jaime? Can you send word to Tyrion of where I am, and that I'm well?"

Jaime smirked, "Unfortunately I'm under strict orders not to visit Tyrion again until the trial tomorrow."

_Of course he would be_. Strict orders from his father surely. Tommorrow would be a long day, and Sansa had to prepare herself. She bid Jaime farewell and readied herself for bed.

* * *

The trial was held early in the day, and Sansa waited patiently in her room. She wondered when the guards would come to collect her. The handmaidens had finished making her as beautiful as ever. With her hair pinned up in it's usual courtly style. So now all she had to do was wait.

The first half of the trial was long. Ser Meryn Trant, grand Maester Pycelle, Cersei, and Varys were the first ones to testify in the first few hours, and after grand Varys spoke there was an hour break. Jaime spent the hour speaking with his father Tywin as Tyrion was forced to endure his hour chained to the stand. All of them were liars and Tyrion frequently said so. Though his outbursts were looked down upon, and he was told to be silent.

Now with nothing to do but think, Tyrion worried for Sansa and all sorts of scenarios of her being tortured ran through his mind. He tried to gather himself. Tried to gather his thoughts because he knew worrying about things he could not control would get him nowhere. He had to focus on his trial and figure a way out of this.

When the bells tolled Tyrion saw Jaime come back in. His older brother made his way to him, but Tyrion's eyes fixated on the snake that followed behind him. He stared at Cersei's vile face and internally cursed his sister's very existence.

Tyrion then looked to Jaime at his side. "Where is Sansa?" was the first thing he asked.

Jaime looked down at his brother and rested an arm on the platform that Tyrion stood trial on. "Do you trust me?' Jaime asked. Tyrion gave a quick nod. "Then, keep your mouth shut. No more outbursts. This will all be over soon."

"The trial may call it's next witness." Tywin announced as he sat down.

Tyrion waited, and when he heard soft heels against the tiled floor he immediately looked back and saw Sansa. He saw her dressed in a light blue ensemble. She was stunning, clean and her hair was intricately done. Her bruise on her cheek was cleverly covered with some skin colored powder.

"Lady Sansa of House Stark," her name was announced by Lancel as she approached the witness platform. And it was then that Tyrion noticed through her dress, her hair, and her make-up, how calm she was. She was steady and it was clear to him that whatever decision Sansa had made, she was surely dead set on it as she stepped up into the wooden stand.

"Do you swear by all the gods that your testimony will be true and honest?"

"I do." Her voice was soft, and Tyrion closed his eyes momentarily in disbelief that this was happening.

"This man stands accused of murdering King Joffrey." Tywin shifted in his seat, and continued, "What do you know of this?"

"I know that he did not do it." Her voice seemed louder than usual, and her words were bold and held a confidence about them. Tywin's eyes narrowed on Sansa and his whole demeanor changed instantly, and Tyrion took notice.

"Is that so? But Tyrion was just accused by Ser Meryn Trant, grand Maester Pycelle, Cersei Lannister and lord Varys. Grand Maester Pycelle reported poisons missing, most notably the Strangler. We've found that your own necklace contained this poison within it. Lady Sansa did Tyrion Lannister kill the King?"

"No."

Tywin's jaw locked in anger as he saw Sansa step out of the witness stand and come before the judges. She was a mere few feet away from the steps that led to the Iron Throne, and Tywin's lips tightened. A guard was quick to react, but Tywin lifted his hand and the guard stayed put.

Sansa then slowly dropped to her knees. "As it please Your Grace, I ask mercy."

Tyrion watched the look on his father's face and it carried the very expression he always gave his children when they disappointed him. Tyrion lowered his eyes but he gave the briefest of grins. He expected so much different from Sansa. Not because he believed she would turn against him, but because if she feared for her life, she would have sold him out. But no. There she was on her knees, begging for his life to be spared. He knew Sansa must have come to some sort of bargain with Tywin, and now she was throwing it away.

"Continue." Tywin urged, giving Sansa one last chance to testify against Tyrion.

"He is innocent, as am I. I know you think otherwise, and believe he must be punished. And if the court comes to the decision that he is guilty, all I ask, is mercy." Sansa ended with that. And when Tywin saw she had nothing else to say he dismissed her.

Guards ushered her out and Tyrion's eyes met with hers. Once more Sansa did what no one had ever done for him before. Never had anyone pleaded for his life with such sincerity. As she passed by him, he saw the faint smile that dwelled on her lips. It was slight, but he saw it. It gave him a sense of strength. Strength that he hoped would carry him through to the end of the trial.

As Sansa and the guards exited the throne room, Sansa could hear Tywin call out for the next witness. Just outside the doors of the throne room, Sansa saw Shae walk towards her. The handmaiden wore a dazzling pink dress, nothing like the dress she ever had as a handmaiden, and Sansa's heart quickened. She knew Shae must have been asked to betray Tyrion, but why Shae? Why Sansa's own handmaiden?

"Shae?" Sansa said aloud. The handmaiden whose head was down, ignored Sansa, but out of confusion Sansa reached out for Shae's arm and gripped her wrist. Shae halted and looked at Sansa's puzzled expression. "Shae..." Sansa breathed her name once more.

Shae shook her head and said nothing. Sansa could see the remorse in Shae's face in that instant, but the handmaiden pulled her wrist free and made her way into the throne room. The guards pushed Sansa along and escorted her back to her room.

This was Tyrion's trial. _Why would they have Shae, my handmaiden testify against Tyrion?_ Sansa tried to reason that it was probably because Shae was present quite often around her and Tyrion. Maybe she would confess that Sansa and Tyrion spent their time plotting against the King. Sansa shook her head. _Even if Tyrion and I did kill Joffrey, the last thing either of us would do would be to tell a handmaiden. Or discuss it in her presence._ Yes Sansa trusted Shae but not that much. _Unless..._ The pieces slowly interlaced in her mind, and Sansa began to realize there was something that Tyrion wasn't telling her about Shae.

* * *

By nightfall Sansa was escorted back to the cell with Tyrion since her bargain fell through with Tywin.

"You...what!?" Sansa felt her blood run cold when Tyrion told her that he demanded a trial by combat by the end of the trial. "And who will fight for you?" Her words stung. Almost as if saying no one would fight on behalf of an imp.

"If not Jaime, then Bronn. He fought for me once, I'm sure he'll gladly do it again." Tyrion spoke as if he were trying to convince himself rather than Sansa.

"Why? Why a trial by combat? What could Shae have possibly said to make you upset?"

Tyrion's jaw locked in frustration. "She lied on the stand. Told everyone that we worked together to bring Joffrey's death. She said I did it to please you, and avenge your brother's death. She threw your name into all this. Practically insisted you were just as guilty as I."

"And that confession was enough for you to demand a trial by combat? Didn't Meryn Trant, Varys, Cersei and Pycelle have the same sort of confessions?" Tyrion knew that Sansa wasn't stupid. He knew he would have to tell her. Not just what Shae said, but about everything. He approached the story cautiously, starting from the Battle of Green Fork, and how she was brought to him by Bronn. Even though he could feel Sansa's disgust rising in her disposition, he pressed on, determined to tell her everything and when he finished he waited for her to say something wicked or cruel.

"Did it ever come to mind that Shae lied on the stand to save her own life?"

Tyrion was surprised that was all she had to ask.

"Of course it did. But I couldn't take it. I couldn't stand there listening to her-her lies. She betrayed me, and it was worse than I imagined. I couldn't let her get away with what she said."

"She did what she had to do. She risked her life coming here, did she not?"

"I gave her the opportunity to leave with more gold than she could have ever spent in her entire lifetime, but she never left. I finally had to tell her that she was no longer welcome here and that you were fit to be my wife, and to bear my children. And I told her I could not love her the way that I would come to love you. I said what I had to in order to protect her. You should be furious with her as well."

"I am furious. But not with her." Sansa turned away from him and crossed her arms against her chest, digesting all he told her. She then took their conversation in another direction.

"Were you with her intimately after we married?' Sansa asked.

"Yes," Tyrion responded honestly. He heard her sigh.

"And were you intimate with her after you and I were?"

"Never." Sansa did feel some relief in that.

"And did you love her?" Tyrion watched Sansa groom the ends of her hair as she listened for his response.

"I did. And I was stupid enough to believe she had loved me back."

Sansa believed that Shae may have loved him, but then again maybe she didn't? Sansa remembered the conversation she and Shae had over Tyrion in her chambers that one morning. Shae had effectively convinced her against Tyrion and Sansa soured at the thought. Maybe Shae was just a good player in all of this.

"Why did you do it?" Tyrion asked bringing their focus back to the trial.

"Do what?"

"Take the stand and plead for my life. Why did you plead for mercy? Surely my father's bargain was more than enough. Shae took it. Why not you?"

Tyrion watched the tension in Sansa's shoulders drop and he heard her take a deep breath.

"There is nothing your family can tempt me with, and there is nothing your family can do to me that they haven't done already."

"Don't underestimate them." Tyrion warned.

Sansa then turned and faced him.

"I also have value to Tywin, unlike Shae. If she had told the truth she would have probably been killed at the stand." Sansa began, "as long as I'm a valuable asset to your father with this child in me, they won't hurt me anymore. Your father didn't spare my life only a fortnight ago just to snuff it out now. I know what your father wants. He knows the great benefit of having a child with Stark and Lannister blood. And when this baby comes, this child will be Tywin's greatest claim to the North."

_You're learning Sansa,_ Tyrion thought. And Sansa could see the admiring smirk he gave but she didn't let it sway her.

"Shae has nothing. Nothing of value. She did what she could to save herself. Something that I know you would have wanted me to do."

"And if you didn't have value to my father would you have accepted his offer?" Tyrion needed to know. He had to know what Sansa would do. The truth was, Sansa had made up her mind long before she ever considered the fact that she still had value to Tywin. She would have still done what she did for Tyrion, not just because her feelings for him were growing but because it was right. She had no substantial proof that Tyrion was innocent, but she was sure of it. She was her father's daughter after all. But at the same time she was effectively risking her life for Tyrion. A Lannister first and foremost.

_No, his family abandoned him completely the day his sister and his father had him seized. He has no family._ Sansa thought. Jaime was kind, yes and he was the closest thing to familial love that Tyrion would ever experience, but how far would Jaime really go for his brother? Would he sit idly by, and let him die?

"I-I don't know," Sansa finally uttered. It was a lie, but she wasn't sure how honest she could be with him. Or perhaps she wasn't sure how honest she could be with herself.

Tyrion respected her answer and left it at that.

* * *

The week went by and Sansa saw anxiety root itself deep in Tyrion's gut. Jaime clearly couldn't be his champion, and Bronn had just denied him. Tyrion was good with disguising his fear, but Sansa knew every self deprecating joke that he made was how he dealt with most things really. After finding out that Cersei's champion was Gregor Clegane, he found himself daily imagining the ridiculous scenario of him facing that giant. It was so absurd in his mind, he couldn't help but laugh at his situation.

It was hard to watch Bronn deny him. Sansa knew Bronn and Tyrion had a good friendship and seeing the two part ways was hard to witness.

"You were right," Tyrion held up his hands as if to signify some sort of defeat to Sansa who sat on the bench in their cell. "Who will fight for me? No one." He cracked a smile as he spoke about his predicament. "Can you see it Sansa? Me, the imp taking on the Mountain. It ought to be a good show. Imagine if I defeat him? That would be a story for the ages. Will you write it?" First it was songs when he began talking about his soon to be match with Bronn. Now it was stories with Sansa.

"Stop it." Sansa shook her head. She reached out her hand to stop Tyrion from thinking so much about what would happen. He silenced at her touch and listened to her. "I want to tell you that everything is going to be alright. I want to tell you that we'll get through this together," she flipped his hand over so his palm was facing up and she looked at his hand. Her thumb rubbed against his palm as her sing song voice continued, "I want to say to you that we'll live somewhere far away, and find some morsel of happiness...but," Sansa's shoulders shrugged as her grip tightened on Tyrion's hand. "but I honestly don't know what will happen now. But I do know that in this moment there isn't a thing we can do, except...spend what little time we have left, together." If Sansa was younger and more naive, she would have told him everything was going to turn out fine. She would have showered endless words of faith and surety, maybe even sang something to calm both their anxiety. But her sight was different now, she couldn't breath life into possibilities that would be nothing more than empty words falling on deaf ears.

She didn't know what would happen, but she was right, what they did have at hand was the present and that was most important.

Tyrion took a few steps closer to Sansa, and she looked up at him. He rested his hands on either sides of her neck, and he came in closer to kiss her. It started out sweet and innocent. A peck on her soft lips, again and again until her lips parted. It was an invitation on her end and he took it. Their kiss deepened and lasted longer. The sweetness dissipated and desire took hold. A sense of urgency took over Sansa. It had been quite some time since she'd last been with him, and the sudden cravings that filled her were strong. But they both knew better. Guards were just outside the door.

It took Tyrion everything he had to pull away. He was never much of a modest man, but he stopped for Sansa.

In that moment Sansa wanted exactly the same, but knew that the cell was a wretched place for such a thing, and she knew he stopped for her. "We should get some rest." Sansa said as she ran a hand through the side of her hair and pinned a few looks behind her ear. Tyrion agreed and the two readied for bed.

* * *

Notes:: I know. This chapter took forever to come out but my life was super busy the last few weeks. I'll try not to keep you guys hanging for too long again. As always reviews are greatly appreciated. I love to know what you guys think so far. Also shout out to the awesome Demelza (a.k.a. essentialasair on tumblr) She made a beautiful AU video of Sansa testifying at Tyrion's trial and it was a huge inspiration for the trial scene that I placed in here. So the trial scene is loosely based on that amazing video. If you wish to check it out, go to youtube and in the search bar type in Sansa Tyrion Trial AU. It should be the first video to pop up.


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